


The Right Tool

by RoseFrederick



Category: Dark Angel, Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Season/Series 02, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodyswap, Crossover, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Literal Alternate Universes, Trope Bingo Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8429584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseFrederick/pseuds/RoseFrederick
Summary: Dean Winchester wakes up to look in the mirror and see his own face, as usual.  Unfortunately, nothing else around him is the same, and as it turns out, the face isn't actually his, either.  Alec McDowell is having much the same problem.





	1. A Rude Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> The two canons do not run concurrently, but as I prefer to deal with characters within their canon time lines, I'll be arbitrarily futzing the chronology to fit my plot. Relative canon timelines will be late season 2 for Supernatural (after WIAWSNB but before AHBLPtI) and mid-season 2 for Dark Angel. Mention of a specific plot point from After the Dark will play into the story.

Dean wakes up slowly and with a certain amount of caution about moving too fast, expecting to be sore and just a little hungover. The ghost of the murdered schoolteacher he and Sam had gone out to put down the night before had not been willing to go quietly. It wouldn't have been anything but strictly routine for the veteran hunters – if it hadn't turned out burning the bones didn't banish her. A frantic scramble out of the cemetery and a bit of backtracking through their research later, they'd eventually figured out she was also attached to an object. In this case, it had been a teaching excellence award with her name and a truly unfortunate smear of blood on it gathering dust in a dark corner of the trophy case at the local high school. They hadn't managed to destroy the award and get rid of the ghost before Sam went through the glass case and Dean ended up with a mildly sprained ankle. 

So between the late night, the throbbing limb, several relatively shallow cuts from the shattered glass, and the whiskey he'd downed to help numb the pain, Dean didn’t expect to wake up the morning after feeling very good. So he was pleasantly disconcerted to realize he felt just fine, neither groggy nor sore anywhere. Instead he felt better overall than he had in years. Opening confused green eyes, he was even more surprised to realize he was in what looked like a bedroom in someone's house or apartment rather than the dingy motel he and Sam had crashed in the night before. There had been an unfortunate waterfowl theme. Of course, the apartment is still rather run down and dingy with some really hideous floor tile, but it's definitely not where he remembers going to bed. Worse, there's no sign of Sam, even after he's explored the adjoining rooms and looked out the windows.

Dean does his best not to show his alarm externally just in case there's someone watching he can't see, but internally he's already going through a checklist of things that could be responsible for his missing memory and relocation. After recent encounters with both a trickster and a djinn, monsters who could do pretty much whatever the hell they wanted to your perception of reality, he doesn't have enough to go on yet to know just how deep in trouble he is.

He can't sense anyone here, and he's hopeful after his experience in the djinn world he would recognize that trick a second time around. In that dreamworld, he'd gradually gotten a more and more potent sense things were just a little bit wrong, and he suspects the newness and the strangeness of it had a lot to do with it taking as long as it did for him to catch on. He feels nothing like that now; this is incredibly weird, but it feels real. Cautiously, he moves back to the bedroom and searches around, seeking for not only his weapons but also his IDs, keys, and more clothes than the well-worn red sweatpants and gray t-shirt he's currently wearing. Which he doesn't recognize any more than the room. 

Dean also doesn't recognize the gun in the top drawer of the nightstand, though he's grateful to find it. Nor can he find the Impala's keys. He does find a wallet and a phone, but neither are his. He recognizes none of the contact numbers nor the associated names on the phone and the IDs in the wallet are made out to an Alec McDowell. One is the expected driver's license, but the other isn't one of his normal fakes, it's a Sector Pass issued by Jam Pony, whatever either of those things are. He would assume it's someone else's wallet, but the license picture features his face, although the hair is a style he's never worn. Dean stares at it for a long moment, thinking maybe he's wrong about recognizing a djinn hallucination, before stuffing the IDs back in the wallet and moving on. He takes an annoyingly cold shower using someone else's shampoo and soap and dresses in clothes he finds in a chest of drawers. He's shivering and cursing all the while, since even most of the dumps he and Sam stay in at least have some hot water.

While he's in the bathroom is when he really notices things are even weirder than he was imagining. Stripping off to shower, he finds that all his old scars and his relatively recent anti-possession tattoo are as gone as the wounds he remembers getting on the hunt the night before. His body is also subtly different in more general ways, too, leaner than he's used to, and his hair is longer, like in the picture on the ID he'd found. He almost wants to say his face looks younger, as well. Together it's almost weirder than all the rest of it put together, because even in the djinn's world, his body had been his own.

Once he's dressed and mostly dried off, he does a more thorough search of the apartment. After he'd woken up and searched the bedroom, he'd given the rest of the place a quick check to make sure he really was alone, but opening the cabinets and rummaging through the cushions on the sofa doesn't turn up anything more interesting than excessive supplies of junk food and alcohol and a little loose change. 

Dean returns to the bedroom and sits down on the bed, trying to puzzle this out with the meager clues he's been given. His sadly directionless contemplation of what to do next is interrupted by a loud banging sound from out in the main part of the apartment. Almost immediately thereafter, a woman's voice filled with impatience and annoyance rings out.

“ALEC! Hurry your lazy ass up! Normal may let you get away with anything, but OC and I are _not_ taking your shifts today.”

Dean makes his way out of the bedroom to see the woman in question is a girl with long dark hair who can't be much older than twenty, if that. She's dressed in dark jeans and a black sweater, and wearing biker gloves with a messenger bag slung across her body. Irritation is just as clear in every stiff line of her body as it was in the tone and volume of her voice. She's standing with her hands on her hips, and starts glaring at him as soon as he comes into sight. She's also ridiculously hot. 

For the moment, he's got no better idea than to play along as if he really was this Alec kid. “I'm coming,” he says. Dean starts to walk towards the door when she makes another angry noise. Trying to keep his cluelessness off his face, he turns back to her and asks, “What?”

“Your bag, dumbass?” she asks with a raised eyebrow and an eye roll.

Dean blinks and looks around, seeing a messenger bag similar to hers he'd found empty and subsequently forgotten about hanging across the sofa, halfway under a pretty nice leather jacket. He grabs both, and turns back towards the door, though he's stopped and insulted again when he goes to walk past the bicycle parked just inside. 

She leads the way down the stairs, and he follows. He can just make out her muttering, “if I didn't know we can't get them, I'd think you were hungover.” Which is a bizarre thing to say, and he files it away with all the other mounting questions. He's not exactly afraid to ask them, but until he knows what got him here, he's not taking the chance of tipping something off earlier than necessary. Dean's generally found it better to play dumb until he's got a plan.

Alec, it turns out, is a bike messenger who delivers packages throughout Seattle, though it's a bizarre third world version of Seattle controlled by military police stationed at checkpoints dividing the city into sectors. By the end of the day, he's not sure if he wants to strangle the bitchy chick or thank her. When he still seems a little out of it by the time they arrive at Jam Pony, she volunteers to do all their delivery runs in tandem, which he's grateful for since he has no idea where anything is in this city. Unfortunately, her favorite thing seems to be complaining about and insulting him for literally everything he does. Dean's pretty sure she's actually muttering to herself in annoyance at how loud he's breathing at one point. And that's after she's shouted at him for being too quiet when he's usually too talkative and implying that he must have changed just to piss her off. There are several points where he has to bite back the impulse to tell her to go screw herself and is stopped only by the fundamental weirdness of the situation and the need to play along hoping for some answers.

Even with all his resolve, he's pretty sure the main thing that gets him through the day is grabbing onto an offered excuse and snapping back that he doesn't want to talk about it after she asks him if his current distracted attitude is about Rachel. Whoever that is, it sounds like a damn good excuse and she actually lays off just a little bit afterward. In fact, the slight suspicion that's been creeping into her expression all morning is suddenly wiped away. He's not sure if he should feel smug or worried the girl is gonna become monster chow if she's that easy to fool, so he settles on relieved she shuts up instead. Still, as soon as they've delivered the last of the parcels they picked up at the Jam Pony offices and turned in their clipboards for the day, he takes off in the general direction of Alec's apartment without a backward glance. 

Which is when the weirdest parts of this whole thing finally sink in to him. He's been biking around the city all afternoon and is not remotely tired or sore, even though he should be seriously stretching muscles he doesn't normally use. When he stops in to get something to drink at a coffee and newsstand he'd noticed a few blocks from the apartment, he catches sight of the date line on what is presumably today's paper as he pays for his beverage. Considering that he wanders off in a daze pondering the incredible claim of it currently being the year 2020, he's caught unprepared when some idiots try to jump him as he passes the entryway to a dark side street. It wouldn't have been a fair fight in his own body, but when he nearly kills one of them by accident, he goes into a cold sweat and hightails it out of there. He's not just in a version of his body that's not quite his, this body isn't even properly human. Nobody human can punch that hard or move that fast. Dean almost goes into a panic but finally realizes he's not had any urges to kill or eat anyone yet, so it's a little early to assume he's turned into some kind of bloodthirsty monster. He does intend to have a serious discussion with Max later though, because her comment about how “we” can't get hangovers is ringing much louder alarm bells in his head now. 

He's put off trying to call Sam all day as much as that was his first instinct, because he's really not sure he can take another fake world where Sam is off living the life he really wants with Jess, law school, and a complete lack of Dean. Still, even after an entire day he doesn't know where else to start, so once he's back to the apartment, he can't put it off any longer. He's got no idea what's going on, and trying to figure this thing out would be easier with Sam. If he exists here. If he doesn't think this is some weird prank call because he's already with Dean, since Dean seems to be in the skin of someone else entirely. Thinking about it makes Dean's head hurt, so he grabs his phone to get it over with.

He dials his brother's number and waits while it rings. Just when he's sure the voicemail is about to pick up, Sam's voice comes over the line. “Hello?”

“Sam?”

There's a long pause before Sam's voice comes back over the line, full of both relief and worry. “ _Dean?_ ”

### ...

  


Alec groans his way to consciousness, feeling worse than he has since he last spent several months in Psy-Ops at Manticore. He's groggy, disoriented, and has more weird aches and pains than he knows what to do with. His abnormally sluggish mind struggles desperately to remember what happened to him last night to leave him in this state, even while he reassures himself he's lying on a not uncomfortable bed, unrestrained, and tries to convince his eyes to open.

“C'mon, Dean, get up already,” an unfamiliar male voice chides from somewhere too close for his comfort in the room. Annoyance is clear in the man's tone, and he feels the mattress under him judder, as if someone had kicked the bed he's sleeping in.

The fact he's not alone is enough to convince him to force his way through the discomfort, opening his eyes and sitting up to a better position for both defense and vantage. Quickly he takes in the situation. He's in a crappy motel room with two queen beds and there's a tall guy who he's never seen before staring at him in mild irritation from the foot of the one he's in. The guy is between him and what has to be the outer door, considering the placement of the drape-covered windows next to it. He can see just enough of the darkness of the bathroom at the other end of the room to know if there's a window in there, it's probably too small to escape through. Alec blinks, but it does nothing to bring up any memories of how he got here or change the unfamiliar scene he's looking at. Or to explain the really weird wallpaper. Are those _ducks_? 

The words are out before he even thinks about it, “What kind of freak buys wallpaper with ducks on it?”

His unfamiliar companion snorts, “You chose the motel, man. Seriously, why are you so slow this morning? You said you wanted to be on the road by now.” Alec turns his attention more directly on his companion, realizing the guy addressing him is really tall. Like nearly Joshua tall, with only slightly shorter hair. He's dressed in layered flannel and scuffed-looking jeans and boots. He's also looking at Alec with familiarity and exasperation. Since Alec has absolutely no clue who he is, it's disconcerting. 

Alec's been trained by Manticore for all kinds of subterfuge and infiltration, but half awake and dropped into the middle of a situation he knows nothing about, even he's a bit off his game. So he grumbles, “ _You're_ slow,” indistinctly and pushes his way past the guy into the tiny bathroom to buy himself a little more time to think. The slight limp he struggles with on the way only makes him feel that much crankier.

He splashes a little bit of water from the sink onto his face before meeting his own bleary eyes in the mirror. Except the lingering lethargy he's been feeling is blinked out of existence in shock. The face staring back at him is still the one he sees in the mirror every day, but not quite like the last time he saw it, and the rest of the body doesn't match his memory either. His face is older, somehow, slightly broader and with a few fine lines that have appeared overnight, but that's not the biggest change. He's got faded scars spread randomly across the bare skin he can see, now that he's paying attention. Not only that, but he's covered in a few newer small cuts that, frankly, should have healed overnight in the time he slept. Manticore creations heal too well for anything but the worst injuries to leave lasting marks. He doesn't expect to find a barcode, since he and Max had lasered each other only a few days ago, but the strange tattoo of a sun surrounding a pentagram on his weirdly broader chest is just as disconcerting. 

“What the hell,” he mutters to himself under his breath. Growing up Manticore was a scifi freak show, but nothing he knows can explain what's going on right now. He futilely goes back over everything he can remember from last night and even yesterday afternoon, trying to find the slightest clue that could somehow explain this.

There''s a knock on the door, and Alec nearly jumps, startled. He'd pretty much forgotten there was someone else here. He really can't afford to be so careless waking blindly into this unknown situation. 

“Dean?”

“Just a minute,” he calls, and the weird just keeps piling on, because his own voice is deeper than Alec expects, even now the sleepiness has left it. It also finally registers that this guy keeps calling him Dean for some unknown reason. 

He opens the door and goes over to rummage through the duffle nearest the bed he was sleeping in, pulling out clothes. Clothes which have a number of weapons tucked in between them. Right now, Alec's just going to go along with this until he figures out what the hell is going on. Assess and then react; the weapons only reinforce the idea that admitting he's not who the other guy thinks he is would be a really bad idea.

“What's up with you this morning, dude?” 

“Headache,” Alec replies, tersely, and hopes that's enough to put the guy off for a while. Sure, the man is probably just an ordinary, but Alec doesn't want to assume anything. Especially with the way his luck typically goes.

Alec's pretty sure it's worked, when the other man mutters something like, “I think you mean hangover,” and stops hovering. Alec isn't completely sure of the words, because in another unwelcome change, his hearing is muffled, too. Shrugging all of it off for the moment, he continues getting dressed and grabbing the things off the nightstand closest to the bed he woke in – a keyring, unfamiliar cellphone, and an open wallet containing a few credit cards in different names and a driver's license bearing his face but made out to one Dean Winchester. He stares for an overlong moment at the unfamiliar picture, wondering just how many copies of his template Manticore made after all. 

It shouldn't really be enough to tip anyone off, but Alec's afraid it has somehow, because the sound of a gun cocking freezes him where he stands. He turns around to be met with a splash of liquid to the face. For half a second he expects it to hurt, but he tastes only water dripping down over his lips. Blinking the droplets out of his eyes, Alec sees the tall guy is just staring at him, gun now braced in both of his hands and an empty flask lying discarded on the nearby bed. A barely concealed flash of surprise has Alec thinking the guy expected some specific kind of reaction to the bizarre attack, but even without getting it, his expression and body language remain tense, with lines of suspicion etched across his forehead. Alec waits him out, hoping for some clue as to how to react.

“Who are you and _where_ is my _brother_?” The guy snarls out.

Alec finds himself defensively spitting out, “I don't know anything about your brother!” before he can stop himself, but luckily, he's not so distracted by that he can't make a move for the gun. Which is the worst surprise so far this morning. In fact, it turns out to be a huge mistake. He tries to blur, and his speed _just isn't there_. Worse, the guy slams him across the head with the gun and tries to take him down. Now, Alec does have years of training on top of the speed and strength he usually relies on, but in an unfamiliar body that won't work the way he expects it to, he's just too slow and too weak. Maybe if the guy was a typical ordinary, but he's clearly had almost as much training as Alec has. Maybe more, Alec realizes, as he sees a blow that will knock him out coming and can do nothing to stop it.

When Alec next wakes, he's trussed up in the back seat of some big boat of a car. Strange tall guy who is too competent for Alec's own good is driving. The way he's tied up is damn professional, too, and Alec's not entirely sure he could get loose in his own body, let alone this pathetic ordinary one. He blows out an aggravated sigh, figuring he can't really make the situation worse with the guy already taking him god knows where.

“What the hell is going on and who the hell are you?” Alec asks.

“Nice try.”

_Nice try_ , Alec repeats in his head, mockingly. Asshole. “Look, buddy, I went to bed in my apartment last night and then I wake up in your hotel room as a significantly less awesome version of my own fine self. If I didn't feel like crap, I'd assume this was some totally whack dream.”

At first, he doesn't think the guy is going to respond at all, and then he snorts half a laugh. “You seriously expect me to believe that?”

“Believe whatever you want, but that's the truth.”

“You're not even going to try to claim that you picked up anything weird or felt funny or anything?” Alec knew exactly what a mocking voice sounded like since it was one of his favorite tactics for aggravating Max and others, and the asshole in the front seat was using one on him. He growled in aggravation.

“Where the hell are you even driving to, anyway?” Alec demands.

“To someone who might be able to help sort out whatever it is you did to my brother.”

It finally clicks in Alec's head that he must be in this guy's brother's place somehow, which answers one question but raises a million more. Of course, none of those are his primary concern at this particular moment. “You just happen to know somebody offhand who knows what to do about sudden, involuntary body swapping? As if that's a thing that happens.”

Although Alec can't see the guy's face from where he's laid out on the back seat, he can hear the amusement that has crept into his voice. “Well, you're the one claiming it just did.”

Alec's head thunks back down onto the leather of the seat and he groans in irritation, giving up on any of this making sense for the moment. 

Some interminable amount of time later, the friend turns out to be an old guy in a trucker cap that lives in the middle of a rusting junkyard, and not the kind that most places have turned into since the Pulse. By the time they pull in front of the guy's house, it is already starting to turn twilight outside, and Alec's borrowed heart speeds up in fear, worried about what these guys are going to do with him.

For the moment, he's just hauled inside and down to the guy's basement which is covered in all kinds of weird occult shit. There's a glancing moment where he's almost afraid the guy is one of White's Familiars, but honestly the tall guy had seemed just as disconcerted as Alec was by this whole crazy situation, and Alec has never known any of the cult loonies able to go this long without getting in a good villain monologue.

They lock him up in a cage of a room, and he's half tempted to snark something about it being ten times bigger and cozier than the ones at Manticore. However, the slim chance they don't know there's actually a transgenic in here keeps his tongue from wagging. 

He can still hear their voices, discussing what is presumably his fate from just outside the heavy door when he hears a cellphone ring.


	2. Working it Out

There's a short pause on the other end of the phone, then, “Where are you?”

“Seattle,” Dean replies. “Are you -” he begins, but then, he really has no idea how to even start asking Sam the questions he wants to ask. Finally, he settles on a statement instead. “I think I've been Freaky Friday'd.”

“Funny, that's what the guy wandering around in your meatsuit said, too.”

“So I'm ... still there, then?” Dean asks, incredibly relieved. He'd had to figure out the djinn world himself, but this Sam sounds like his Sam from his world. Dean has a lot more faith in this getting solved quickly with Sam's help than if he has to do it all on his own. The relief has him blurting out, “This is royally screwed up, Sam, I look kinda like me, but it's not me.”

There's a pause, and then Sam asks, “You think this guy is a witch? Or a monster that can change shapes, or what?”

“I don't know what to think. I haven't seen any weird spelling crap around here. Or any other obvious clues as to what the hell is going on.” It's true. He'd certainly have noticed any kind of magical paraphernalia in his search of the apartment that morning, unless the guy whose skin he's in was a heck of a lot better at hiding things than Dean was at finding them. “I don't know if he did this, but I don't think the guy is totally 100% human.” Dean plans to try holy water and silver tests at the first possible opportunity. The former should be easy enough, but considering the general state of Seattle at the moment, he's not entirely sure where he'll conveniently find real silver. That's a problem for later, though. Right now there was something else he needed to tell Sam. “That's not all, dude. Last I remember, it was 2007.”

“Uh, yeah, Dean, it still is,” Sam answers, managing to sound both condescending and confused at the same time. It's a gift of Sam's that his brother is well familiar with.

“Not according to the calendars around here, it's not. They all say 2020.”

“Dude, what the hell?” There's a pause, and then Sam asks, his voice clearly not speaking into the phone, “What year is it?” 

“Huh,” Sam says absently. “Bodysnatcher guy says it's 2020, too.”

There's another short silence. “It can't be both, right? Or else how could I be talking to you?” 

It's a completely rhetorical question because none of this makes any sense. Sam sighs. “I'm at Bobby's. We're gonna take a look at his books. I'll call you back when we've got something, alright?”

Dean says goodbye and hangs up the phone, disappointed. He supposes it would be too much to hope for that they would have already figured out the whole thing even before he called. He should be grateful Sam is even able to talk to him and isn't some weird alterna-Sam. Still, hanging out in a grungier version of Seattle trying to pretend to be some guy he knows nothing about isn't Dean's idea of a good time.

He gets himself up and in to Alec's work on time the next day, simply to have something to do. He'd figured when the bitchy chick had never really noticed anything was off that he was doing a good enough job impersonating the kid, but that may have been overconfidence on his part. At least that's what Dean figures when he's immediately cornered by a goofy looking guy named Sketchy who wants to know why he didn't show up at someplace called Crash the night before. Dean tries to shrug it off as just feeling like taking a night in, but it's clear from the expression on the guy's face he's not entirely buying it. Thankfully, it looks more like concern than suspicion, so Dean makes a promise to show up that night and then rushes to get some packages to deliver. Dean probably should have realized this Alec guy would have more friends at work than just that one chick who would expect him to know them.

Crash, it turns out, is a biker bar. Not biker in the sense of those he and Sam have been frequenting for hustles most of their lives, but biker as in bike messengers. Still, there's alcohol and pool tables, so it's not exactly a hardship for Dean to spend what would be an otherwise fruitless evening staring at the TV in Alec's apartment there.

There's just a couple hitches to the night. First, Sketchy has to be soothed a little after Dean goes easy on him at the pool table. Hey, the kid is this Alec's friend and he's completely lousy at the game but implied the two of them regularly played for money. Dean didn't figure he could really be blamed for assuming Alec must also suck at pool and played accordingly. Second, bitchy chick, who Dean finally catches the name Max in reference to, comes in with some nerdy looking guy with glasses who has to be at least a decade older than her. If the sappy lovelorn looks between them are any indication, he's probably her boyfriend. Unfortunately, no one greets the guy by name, and he tries to strike up a conversation with Dean when they both end up going to the bar at the same time. 

When Dean falters through not remembering the last conversation the guy had with Alec, glasses starts talking down to him like a condescending dick. There's no way Dean would normally put up with it, but he tells himself he's not Dean right now and manages to endure the lecture. Of course, being a dick might just be the guy's normal state, because no one else looks surprised by his attitude as the man just keeps talking at him while they head back to the rest of the group. In trying to avoid further conversation, Dean asks the guy for a game of pool and then – since Sketchy lead him to believe Alec is at least nearly as good as Dean - soundly kicks the guy's ass. Hey, glasses was a douche, but it still surprises him when it ends with both Max and her old man glaring at him for some reason. Okay, that might have been because he capped off the sound beating with something along the lines of, “Hey, man, not my fault you suck at this.”

It's not really late at that point, but Sketchy is nearly passed out drunk and Dean is left with just the glaring duo for company. There had been another friend of Max's that was apparently part of their group, another hot chick in a leopard print halter and sparkly eye shadow, but she'd left to go hit on a pretty blonde girl at the bar more than an hour ago and since disappeared. Dean doesn't see the need to put up with these two killjoys any longer when they clearly don't even like this Alec kid he's pretending to be. Why they're hanging out together is pretty much a complete mystery from his end, and he's beyond caring about the reasons for it at the moment, so Dean makes his excuses and goes out to where he's parked Alec's motorcycle. a vehicle he'd been clued in to the existence of by one of Alec's neighbors banging on his door that afternoon to complain about where it had been left parked.

Unfortunately, Max doesn't seem satisfied with his bailing and follows him out, which he discovers when she swings for his head. Not sure why she's attacking him, or what she and Alec are since he still hasn't worked out a good way to subtly ask yet, he doesn't pull his punches or treat her as any less than he would any dangerous unknown supernatural creature, taking full advantage of this borrowed body's assets. Two days at work had showed his boss didn't expect much work out of Alec, so Dean had spent a few hours between packages exploring what he could do now. He'd also managed to track down something silver at a pawn shop, but handling the letter opener as the paranoid shop keeper looked on hadn't answered any of his questions. 

After they exchange a few blows, she goes down hard on the pavement, and he forces her to stay there until she stops trying to struggle her way back up or distract him enough to let her go. When he does finally let her free and backs out of easy reach, she eyes him with a wary respect that has been completely absent before now. Shit, so much for playing along. 

“What the hell, Alec, you've never fought like that before.”

Dean shrugs, and shakes out his shoulders a bit. She may not be a match for him, but she is way stronger than she should be for a girl her size. She's definitely a threat, even with Alec's body and his training. He's going to have to get to the bottom of the mystery of just what kind of creature these kids are sooner rather than later. Especially if he's just tipped her off and got himself in real trouble here.

She does not take kindly to his non-answer, and all but shrieks, “You ass! You're saying you've been letting me win? Like you apparently let Logan win at pool last time?” 

Already so very tired of her and ready to be back home as well as relieved that she seems to be willing to manufacture her own explanation for his behavior, he smirks and says, “Clearly.”

“Why?”

The current pitch of her voice is giving him a headache, so he goes with the sarcastic answer that's jumped to the tip of his tongue. “I don't know, maybe I was hoping you'd be less of a complete bitch!”

She makes a sound of outrage and swings for him again, but it does her no more good than the last attempt, and she seems to finally realize she's not going to win and backs off, still looking disconcerted and unhappy. “What is up with you lately, Alec?”

“Nothing!” Dean snaps defensively, before getting a better hold on himself. He really hopes he hears something back from Sam soon. Bad enough he's stuck far from home and has no idea how to do anything to help himself, but trying to play a specific person according to other people's expectations without any kind of guide is wearing heavily on him already. “Nothing,” he says more calmly, “Maybe I just got sick of pretending.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” She plants her hands on her hips and is clearly intending to stall him here until she gets some kind of answer she likes. Not happening.

“Just back off, already!” He snaps, and quickly dashes over to hop on and start up the motorcycle. She jumps out of the way when he doesn't slow down, and he just barely makes out her voice yelling what she thinks is his name fading out behind him over the roar of the engine as he accelerates away.

Dean stomps his way up to Alec's apartment, his mood not getting any less foul after the drive home. Sure, motorcycles are cool and all, but it's not the same as his car. He misses his Baby, and on top of that he misses his brother, and he's sick of trying to pretend to be this Alec kid that he doesn't understand. First of all, he's not even sure what the kid is, and that kind of freaky would be enough bad to be going along with. In his experience, non-human has always been a bad thing, and unknown non-human even worse. Sure, he's not having any urges to snack on innocent civilians yet, but who knows whether or not that's just around the corner? There are plenty of monsters that can go days, weeks, even years without feeding. 

Then you add in that Alec's life just kind of sucks. Bike messenger? Yeah, Dean can see how the all-purpose sector pass it gets the kid is extremely useful, but it doesn't pay well and it's boring and tedious. Of course, from what he's learned so far from a few phone calls, Alec isn't getting most of his income from the messenger business. He's also honestly not sure how to count the boss' creepy obsession with the kid, either. On the one hand, Dean is sure he could get away with pretty much anything including not coming in to work at all with the flimsiest of excuses. On the other, having Normal – and having a name like Normal has got to be the least normal thing ever – practically drool on him is just off-putting. 

The part really getting Dean down though is that the kid doesn't really seem to have any family or even good friends. Sketchy seems to genuinely like him, but even aside from being kind of a dope, a few subtle questions have made it clear he doesn’t know much of anything about Alec. He doesn't even know where the guy's apartment is! So they can't actually be all that close. Original Cindy was mostly nice enough to his face, but it's pretty clear she's Max's friend through and through. Which comes down to Max and Logan who pretty clearly just can't stand him. Yet Max seems to be all over his ass all the time, and seems to think it's strange Dean wants to get the hell away from her. He just doesn't get why this kid is wasting his time with these people. Maybe it's the nonhuman thing? Dean just doesn't know other than it sucks and he wants to go home.

He'd like to at least hear back from Sam, who is supposed to be doing the research on his end on how to fix this weird mix up. He tries to be patient at first and wait for Sam to call back with some kind of an update, but days start going by with no word at all. It's too much for Dean's impatience to stand. Unfortunately, when he dials Sam's number from Alec's phone a second time, all he gets is a weird buzzing noise coming down the line he's never heard a phone make before. It freaks him out more than a little, and after a couple panicked redials and almost smashing Alec's phone in anger, he ends up going back to that bar, Crash, and trying to get drunk. Which is another thing he plainly hates about being Alec; it doesn't matter how many shots he throws back, the kid's body just will not get more than a little buzzed. It's like the final cherry on top of the crap sundae of living this kid's life.

Hating the helplessness and unsure if Sam will be able to contact him again, Dean gets desperate enough to track down a library. It's dilapidated and the computers and internet actually seem to be slower and less helpful than they were in 2007, which is downright weird. At least it does clear up a few things he's been really wondering about, because when he goes back to his own time to look ahead, the biggest news story is something called the Pulse. He had noticed this was a completely crappy future version of Seattle, but his personal issues had been taking up far too much of his concentration to care about finding out what the deal was with that. 

In addition to learning about the Pulse, the other thing he figures out is that this definitely isn't his own universe. Or at least not the version he's familiar with. With the incident he'd just been through with the djinn so fresh in his mind, he'd looked up a few of their biggest cases, to see if he and his family had existed as hunters here to save those people. Except he can't find any record of any of those incidents happening at all – not even the things that had led he and Sam to the hunts in the first place. Going back as far as he can, he can't find any records for him or Sam or their parents, or even their grandparents existing in Lawrence, Kansas, either. 

He also can't find any genuine occult sites online. Of course there's the fake crap from the new age wiccans and ghost hunters similar to those Ghostfacer guys, but nothing that has any validity. They don't know any of the basics about hunting beyond those that have slipped out into the mainstream culture, like silver killing shifters and werewolves. Dean's not entirely sure the supernatural even exists here, and that means if he's cut off from Sam, he's not only ill-equipped to help himself, it's quite possibly impossible for him to do so.

In the end, he leaves the library with more questions than answers. He hadn't wanted to think too hard about the strange time discrepancy when he'd talked to Sam, but if they really are in different universes, that could account for it. Well, at least he figures that's so, it's not like different universes is a thing you run into terribly often as a hunter. Of course, that doesn't explain how he was able to contact Sam at all, if that was his Sam he contacted. This world still feels real, he isn't having any of the kinds of flashes he did in the djinn hallucination, and Alec is clearly not him in some fundamental ways. He can't think of anything other than a djinn or the trickster that could create a world this thoroughly and it doesn't feel like the former and they killed the only version of the latter they'd ever run afoul of. He's not at the point of fatally injuring himself to try and wake up - yet. If he can't manage to get back through to Sam again somehow though, he's not really sure how long it might take for that to become an option.

### ...

  


Alec listens closely through the door, trying to hear both ends of the relatively short phone conversation going on in the other room. Considering the crap body he's currently in, it would have been a lost cause if not for the guy who knocked him out and trussed him up putting the phone on speaker almost immediately so that his friend can listen in. Thankfully, it's quiet enough in the basement Alec can hear most of the conversation, too, since the small window in the heavy door he's locked behind is open.

Alec is used to dealing with weird, Manticore made sure of that, but this is a whole new ballpark of weird. This Sam guy is talking on the phone to a voice that sounds like his about how it's 2007. Of course, that's not half so distressing as when the guy on the other end of the phone who's apparently in his skin right now outs him as not being completely human. It makes him go cold all over. These guys have already tossed him into a locked cell just for not being this Dean guy, he doesn't want to know what they might do with that piece of information.

The only thing he can hold on to at the moment is that he is inside this Dean guy's body, because it's definitely less awesome than his own. Surely, no matter how backwards and prejudiced they might be, surely they won't risk hurting the body he's in. He hopes not, at least. 

The phone conversation ends, and Sam and the older man have a hushed conversation he only catches a few words he can make sense of, but it mainly seems to be a rehash of what they just heard anyway with a few wild theories involving things like time travel and alternate universes thrown in. His companion, whom Sam refers to as Bobby, grumps and says he'll get started on puling his books about transference, time travel, magic, and whatever else might help. Alec listens as Bobby's heavy footfalls head back up the stairs. As there's the sound of only one pair of feet heading up, he expects Sam has hung around to say something to him. So Alec waits and waits, getting increasingly impatient.

Bored and curious, he does his best to peer through the grille on the window in the door and see what Sam's doing, but the guy appears to just be staring morosely at he phone in his hand. Alec snorts, unimpressed. That's not going to get anybody back where they belong any time soon, and he's got a vested interest here. “Hey!” He yells out, and Sam starts and looks over, almost as if he's forgotten the guy he knocked out and put in a ready-made dungeon his friend just happened to have in his basement. Yeah, and Alec's the one they're worried about being a freak! “How long are you going to leave me in here? No TV or anything? C'mon!”

Sam looks at him through the small opening calculatingly. “Depends. What are you?”

“I'm a bike messenger from Seattle,” Alec replies, the snark hopefully hiding the trepidation he feels. Ordinaries do not deal well with finding out you aren't completely human in his experience. Sure Max had tripped over Original Cindy and Logan, but considering how willing this guy had already shown himself to pull a gun on Alec? Yeah, admitting to being a government science project isn't likely to make Sam feel any cuddlier about him. Unfortunately, Alec knows well enough he's not going to be able to avoid answering the question for very much longer. Damn this Dean guy anyway for his big stupid mouth. 

Sam's voice brings Alec back into the moment. “Sure. See, the thing is, my brother's running around in your skin in 2020 and he says you're not exactly human. So I'll ask again, what are you?”

“Hey, does it really matter?” Alec asks, a little desperately. Then he adds for good measure, “After all, I'm in your brother right now, apparently, and he's definitely 100% boringly ordinary human.”

Sam laughs, but it's not truly a happy sound. “I really wish Dean was here himself to take offense to that. Doesn't matter if you're in a human for the moment. If you've got the instincts of some kind of monster, there's no telling what you'll do.”

“Oh, because of course, if I'm not completely human I must be a monster that deserves to be put down?” Alec knows this is a volatile situation and he should try to control his temper better, but he's spent most of his life being treated like an animal or an expensive piece of property by turns. He's enjoyed the freedom he's had lately too much not to be angry when someone tries to reduce him back to that again. He knows this guy is dangerous, but as usual, controlling his tongue isn't exactly his first impulse anymore.

“Hey, man, you're the one that keeps avoiding the question here,” Sam says, shrugging. The intense look in his eyes and the tenseness of his frame belie the nonchalance he's attempting, though. “Makes it seem like you've got something to hide.”

Alec had expected the guy to get angry, but it's almost as if the snark makes Sam feel a little more at ease. Maybe he and this Dean guy are more alike than just looking like each other. If that's the case, he might as well play into it. “Because I really want to admit anything to the crazy guy who has a dungeon in his basement he's got me locked in. That seems like a great idea.”

Sam gives him a sharp smile. “It is if you ever want to get out of that room.”

Crap. Alec tries to weigh the pros and cons in his mind, but when it comes down to it, there's not really a choice here. Besides, he is still in Dean for the moment, and that gives him some security - Alec's especially sure of that now having seen how Sam reacted to Dean's phone call. “I'm a transgenic.”

There's a silence from the other side of the door, and Alec peers out, but Sam just looks confused. Finally, the guy asks, “And that would be what, exactly?”

“Some wacky government scientists mixed a bunch of human DNA with other animal DNA in a test tube trying to make super soldiers with enhanced abilities. A little cat, a little dog, a little this, a little more of that, and we're faster, stronger, smarter, better than ordinary humans.” 

“So what was the bit about being a bike messenger? Because that doesn't sound like a job for a government created super soldier, somehow.”

Alec shrugs, though he doubts Sam can see the movement. “The program got exposed and they tried to charbroil us to cover the whole thing up, but some of us got lucky and escaped. Messenger work makes it easy to get around the city without suspicion.”

“Huh.”

“That's all you've got to say,” Alec asks, incredulously. Okay, so maybe he should be glad the guy isn't reaching for his gun or anything, but seriously, that's not the way normal people react to crazy government conspiracy theories. Then again, Sam hadn't exactly reacted in a way Alec would consider normal to the whole body swapping fiasco, either. 

“Well, it's actually crazy enough I'm tempted to believe you. If you were just making something up, it'd probably sound less like something out of Weekly World News.”

Alec snorts. “So let me out? I mean, it's not like I've got any super abilities now. Unfortunately.” The last word he mutters to himself, far too low for Sam to hear.

“What are you going to do if I let you out?” Sam asks, his tone fairly neutral. Even as well as he's been trained to try and gauge expressions, Alec can't make out what Sam might be thinking.

“Honestly, man, from the sound of it I'm relying on you and Grumpy Bearded Guy to get me back in my own skin. So it sounds like I'll be doing whatever the hell you want me to.”

Sam closes his eyes and runs his hand over his face. “So you heard all that, huh?”

“Heard, yes. Believe?” Alec pauses, and Sam stares into his eyes through the grate separating them. “That I'm not so sure about. But then again, I know this isn't my body, so I'm not sure this not being my body in the year 2007 is all that much less believable. Unless I've just gone crazy, but that still doesn't explain you and your ready-made dungeon.”

Sam sighs and goes over to a table on the side of the room to grab something, and Alec's heart sinks for a moment, thinking the guy is just going to walk off and leave him. Fortunately, he's wrong as Sam shortly comes back over to the door and starts to unlock it before pausing for a moment. “Look. I'm not sure if you're just telling me what I want to hear or not, but if you are this isn't your fault, so I'm going to give you a chance. But you're right, I am your only way to get back where you belong. So you'd better consider that long and hard before you even think about doing anything but helping us research how this happened and how to reverse it.”

The heavy door swings open between them, and Sam watches him warily, clearly waiting to see what he's going to do. Alec simply steps out into the room slowly, not making any sudden movements. He doesn’t know what the hell is going on. He doesn't entirely trust these guys, even though they seem to have accepted his story. Maybe especially because they have, since his story is nuts. Alec really can't see any other choice here, though, because at least they seem to know something about what's going on, which is more than he has on his own. Sadly, even if the only real reason he's got to trust them is that they believe him and haven't yet tried to kill him, that still puts them ahead of all too many of the people he's known. 

Sam sighs again and gestures towards the stairs. “Alright, let's go upstairs and see if Bobby's got anything.”


	3. Overconfidence

Max is leery of him for about three days before her inherent bitchiness reasserts itself and she comes up to him a couple different times and tries to start a fight, almost as if she's just trying to prove to herself she's not afraid of him. Dean had gotten the impression she was used to Alec being too laid back to generally really fight her, so he does his best to ignore and avoid her. Her volatility convinces him not to ask any of the lingering questions about what the two of them are unless it becomes absolutely necessary. She knows something is up with him, but she doesn't actually know what, and the last thing he wants to do is clue her in any further or tip anyone else off. So he does his best to continue playing dumb with an extra bit of effort put towards coincidentally only being around her in a crowd or not at all.

So it's another three days before she corners him between the lockers at Jam Pony with Original Cindy's assistance and asks him why he's avoiding Josh. Since Dean has absolutely no clue who the heck Josh is, he mutters a vague denial about being busy. By now, he isn't even really afraid she'll clue in that he's not Alec; Dean should probably be glad no one in the kid's life seems to know him well enough to tell someone else is walking around in his skin, but it's just kind of sad. He tunes out the resulting harangue about how he's being a bad friend to this Josh guy. Who is apparently some kind of shut in since evidently he and Max are sharing duty keeping him company because he can't go out and see people himself. She demands they go together after work to see the guy, and Dean agrees just to get her to shut up because he's already learned there isn't much point in arguing with her. Besides, if they go together, he doesn't have to try and figure out how to get to the home of some random guy only knowing a first name. 

He expects to have to listen to her bitching him out the whole ride over to this guy's place, but they take their motorbikes. Thankfully they're loud enough to prevent any unwanted conversation, and Dean already has two or three excuses in mind of how he's going to have reason to leave shortly if she gets too obnoxious. 

Dean is damn lucky Max goes in first and gives Joshua a big hug, because it allows him time to recover from his first instinct to reach for a gun before either of them can notice. Well, now he knows why the guy is a shut in, because JoJo the Dogface boy is certainly not going to be out roaming the streets without causing a commotion. He really wishes he could ask what the hell the guy is, but Alec surely already knows, so he can't. Although it makes him wonder all over again what Alec is, since the kid isn't completely human and is clearly spending time with others who aren't either. 

He's nervous around the big guy – someone taller and hairier than Sam is pretty disconcerting – but Joshua, face and minor speech issues aside, seems like a pretty normal dude. Almost too nice, even, though he does keep shooting Dean looks that Dean is pretty sure are concern or confusion. For the first time since he arrived here and met most of the people Alec hangs out with, Dean wonders if he's giving himself away somehow. Joshua doesn't actually say anything though, and Dean gradually relaxes. 

The evening isn't a complete waste of awkward worries, though, because he does hear one new thing. Joshua says something about them being from a place called Manticore. Dean doesn’t know what that is, but any place Joshua has come from has got to be a very interesting sort of place. So the next day, he finds his way back to the library. Unfortunately, he also finds himself mostly thwarted. There's an archive of a television broadcast several months ago from some pretentious cyberhacker with an oddly familiar voice outing a government project to create genetically engineered super soldiers. Holy conspiracy theories, right? But the more he thinks about it, and about the abilities this body he's in has, the more he's willing to go with it. 

Especially after a round of careful questions to an inebriated Sketchy clue him in to the fact that Alec only moved to Seattle after this government place blew sky high, and Max came back from supposedly having a heart transplant around the same time. His first instinct is always to suspect something supernatural, but since he's found even less evidence of that in this world than he has of government conspiracies, he decides to go with this as the reigning theory. At least until one of his calls to Sam manages to go through or he finds out otherwise. Not being able to directly ask anyone questions is frustrating as hell. He's thought about just putting it out there to Max who, despite her personality, seems to be on top of a lot of things. The problem is he really doesn't know what the potential consequences might be and things seem safe enough for now. It'd be different if he thought there was any chance he'd find out something that would get him home faster, but all these mysteries seem to lead back to what Alec is and be unrelated to how Dean got here.

Things get a little weird a few days later when Max comes into Jam Pony and immediately walks over to start being oddly nice to him. It freaks him out, and he demands to know what she's after. She huffs and says they've got a job for Eyes Only – the cyberhacker guy from the TV report he'd found about Manticore. He's kind of interested in what that's all about, and he's quite frankly bored with nothing but Alec's job and hanging out with Alec's friends night after night. She seems a little suspicious of his easy acquiescence, but he just shrugs it off and tells her truthfully he has nothing better to do. 

After work he heads out after her and they go to some swanky penthouse apartment to be briefed about a job by her lame boyfriend guy. Which explains why the hacker in the broadcast seemed weirdly familiar. Dean can't believe no one's outed the guy if his attempts at disguising himself are that transparent, but hey, it's not even Alec's problem, let alone Dean's. They go and steal some data disks from some criminal kingpin, and it's kind of a rush. Even better, they have to be quiet so he doesn't have to listen to Max snarling at him the whole time, although the looks she keeps shooting him drive him crazy enough that as they're exiting the place he asks, “What?”

“You'd tell me if you're in trouble again, instead of hiding it badly so I have to come an bail your ass out at the last minute, right? Because I'm not interested in doing that again, Alec.” She almost sounds genuinely concerned.

It's enough to keep Dean from snapping at her. Instead, he says, “What makes you think I'm in trouble?”

Max gives him a bit of a shrug before straddling her bike. “I dunno. You're just all weird lately. Quiet.”

Dean snorts, because he's pretty sure whatever he chooses to do as this Alec kid annoys her. He starts up his own bike, and calls out just before taking off, “I can't even remember how many times you've told me to shut up just in the last week, but now you're saying I don't talk enough? Make up your mind.”

He expects that to be the end of it, but she stops him with a hand to the arm before they enter the elevator to go back up to boyfriend's digs to give him the disks they swiped. “I mean it, if you've got yourself in a jam again -”

Dean shrugs her off. “Look, Max. Nothing is going on.”

“Then why are you always avoiding me lately if you're not hiding some stupid scheme?” she huffs. He's honestly surprised she's even noticed, maybe she is more perceptive than he's given her credit for.

Still, Dean rolls his eyes and brushes her off. “You don't like me. You've made that more than clear, so why are you complaining?”

“I'm not!” she exclaims quickly, but then her brow furrows and she goes on, “Never bothered you before.”

“I must be getting smarter in my old age, then,” Dean says with a smirk.

Max rolls her eyes at him, but keeps glancing at him sideways as they ride the elevator up to Logan's penthouse. Dean ignores it, mostly. Maybe he should be trying harder to placate her, but he just really can't be bothered. Maybe if he thought she was genuinely this Alec kid's friend he'd be more worried about screwing up their relationship, but as it is, he figures if she starts leaving him alone Dean would have done the guy a solid. 

Listening to her boyfriend – Logan, he finally figures out is the man's name – drone on and on about whoever this mob boss is and all the things he's got proof now about him having done isn't exactly a thrill a minute. Dean figures it pretty much balances out, because the part where they actually got to break into the guy's place was enjoyable. Hey, it's not exactly taking down monsters, and Dean feels it's a little silly because some other bad guy will just step into this one's place if this Eyes Only thing is successful at using the information he and Max just stole, but he's been feeling itchy in Alec's skin with not enough to do, so it's better than nothing.

He's almost tempted to ask, as the days continue to go by, if the guy doesn't have more missions for him to be doing. Sure, bike messenger isn't exactly a sedentary job, and he's taken up pool hustling like going back to an old friend after finding out Alec did that, too. He's even been trying to field a few of the calls from contacts the kid gets for various sundry trades and schemes, though they've been dwindling a bit. Dean assumes that's probably because he's not out seeking new ones, but as much as Dean knows about cons, he doesn’t know the city or Alec's contacts enough to truly get much going. So a little espionage for the guy's one man crusade for truth, justice, and fluffy puppies or whatever, if ridiculous, is at least a way to fill the time and burn off some of his restless energy.

Unfortunately, Logan just gets more and more increasingly suspicious when what he thinks is Alec drops by to volunteer for stuff. Even when he does have something for Dean to do, he's never remotely grateful, and he has the nerve to complain when a job nearly goes bad or yields no results, even when it's his own faulty intel that trips things up. Dean gives up seeking him out as a lost cause when he gets the third lecture from Max about harassing Logan and repeats her demands he tell her what kind of trouble he's gotten into and is trying to cover up now. Considering how she's treated him, Dean shouldn’t be surprised she won't take his word for the fact he's not in any trouble, but that doesn't make it any less annoying. It also seems like the more he tries to avoid her, the more insistent she is about trying to track him down. At work, at Crash, at his apartment. He actually catches her following him when he goes out for a random drive around the city on his motorcycle. He figures he'll ditch her by going into a local strip club, but he's more than a little amused when she manages to follow him inside there, too. Especially since he knows they only let girls in who are willing to work the floor.

He hadn't really wanted to do anything to draw attention to the kid before, but the more time passes the more Dean prioritizes his own boredom over that. He tries looking for hunts, since there’s nothing else to do. Unfortunately, that's just as much of an exercise in frustration as everything else as been, because he still can't seem to find anything that looks remotely like it's supernatural in origin. Even the weirdest of the weird tabloids are mostly full of things that are relatively harmless escapees from Manticore, including Joshua's very own front page spread, it turns out. The most frustrating part is Dean's not sure whether there just isn't a supernatural world active here, or if the news outlets have been so scattered and cut back in the aftermath of the Pulse that things just aren't getting reported. Since there's no longer a daily paper even for as large of a city as Seattle is, his access to the information isn't what it would be back home. He'd like to believe there just isn't anything lurking in the dark here, since he can't find any signs of hunters or traditional monsters, but that's just too optimistic for Dean to believe.

Since Max bugged him about it, Dean does make it a point to go by and visit Joshua every few days. It's always just slightly uncomfortable, though. Oh, the big guy is amiable enough, no question. Dean just can't quite shake the feeling Joshua knows he's not Alec. Not that he accuses Dean of having body-swapped his friend or gets hostile at all, but he's always eyeing Dean strangely. Gradually Dean relaxes and forgets it, since Joshua doesn't seem to actually be doing anything about whatever suspicions he might have. Turns out that was a mistake.

As it was, maybe he would have clued Max in that something was wrong anyway when he gave her a blank, uncomprehending stare when she cornered him at Jam Pony between runs to whisper something about lasers and barcodes. It wasn't until after she'd told him to stop being an idiot and stomped off that he remembered reading all the freaks from Manticore were supposed to be branded with barcodes on the back of their necks. Sure enough, when he went home that evening and twisted himself around to try and peer with a mirror at the back of Alec's neck, he could see there were some dark lines emerging from the skin. It was probably a good thing he'd always had a habit of wearing his collars popped and hadn't yet given in to the urge to get Alec a more familiar haircut to reduce the shag at the base of his skull.

When Max storms into his apartment not too much later, she looks just about as wary as he's ever seen her and carefully keeps her distance, holding herself in a fighting stance he recognizes. “Funny, I had a real interesting conversation with Joshua tonight. He says you're not Alec. That you've just been pretending to be him for a while. So I just wanna know two things. What's your designation and what'd you do with Alec?”

“I don't have a designation, and I didn't do anything to Alec,” Dean replies. He knows she's not going to believe him, but he's not even entirely sure what she means by designation and this whole body swap thing is totally not on him.

“Now why don't I believe you?” Max asks with false sweetness. “Why don't you just show me your barcode, then?”

Dean's not exactly comfortable with exposing such a vulnerable point to her right now when she's so clearly distrustful, but if it'll tell her this is Alec's meatsuit, it's probably one of the fastest routes to getting her to believe him. So he turns around. Max walks over and roughly pulls down on his collar. 

Her hand freezes there, before brushing the tips of her fingers lightly across the flesh, giving him goosebumps. “I don't – Alec?”

“No, I'm Dean. This is Alec's body though.”

Max backs away, and Dean turns around to see that she's wearing an expression of only partially suppressed horror. “I don't understand. You said PsyOps made sure Ben's psychosis wasn't genetic. They were bastards, but thorough. You can't mean -”

“Woah, I don't know what you're talking about, but this ain't psychology, sister, it's magic. I woke up in this kid's skin a couple weeks ago where it's suddenly 2020 and the wrong universe. He's with my brother, wearing me around back in 2007 in my world. Now I figure you don't believe in the supernatural, and considering I can't find any traces of it in this reality, I can't say I blame you, but that's what happened.”

“You realize that sounds far crazier than multiple personalities, right?” Max suggests, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

Dean grimaces. “I can't prove I'm not crazy. I managed to get my brother on the phone once, but I don't even know how that worked since it seems like now it was a fluke. I can't find a damn bit of proof for anything weird in this world that isn't completely made up or straight from Manticore.” 

Max just looks at him. “So if I believed you, which I completely don't, what are you going to do to get my friend back where he belongs?”

“Nothing,” Dean sighs. “I can't do anything from my end, because I can't find any resources on anything – and even back in my world this whole body swapping thing is pretty freakin' high on the weird meter. I just have to hope my brother and Bobby can figure this one out. Hopefully one day I'll wake up back home and so will Alec.”

“So I was right, you are in some kinda trouble.” Dean makes a face of pure annoyance, and Max's expression turns calculating and her voice takes on a persuasive lilt as she asks, “You're so sure this is some magic thing, you wouldn't mind going with me to see a doctor, then, right?” 

“Whatever, if it'll get you off my back.”

### ...

  


Alec most definitely wants to get back to his own body and his own life. Which is why he volunteers to help with the research project Sam and Bobby embark on in the dusty library of Bobby's house. Well, it might be more accurate to say the dusty library that _is_ Bobby's house, since there are books in just about every room of the place.

The problem is, research is just, well, boring. Manticore may have given him a first class mind, but he doesn't even really know what he's looking for here in more than the vaguest sense. They know that he switched bodies with Dean somehow. After asking Alec a bunch of questions about his world, accompanied by Sam working on a laptop to track down parts of his story with an efficiency that would have Logan green with envy, they're pretty sure it's not just a timeline discrepancy between worlds, either. Alec seems to be from an entirely different universe, because Sam can find no traces of Manticore or several major world events Alec remembers from Manticore's history lessons covering the early 2000s. 

In a way it's reassuring that Sam and Bobby just buckle down and start researching, but after the first couple texts, Alec realizes he's not really helping. All of it is utterly crazy-sounding stuff about monsters and witches and spell craft and he not only has trouble believing any of it is real, he doesn't know enough of the terminology some of the references use to be sure he isn't skimming over something important. Which doesn't even address that several of the texts are in languages he doesn't know. Manticore hadn't given him more than the basics in Latin as a root language, and they certainly hadn't bothered with any of the even deader languages Bobby has books in. 

Which is another distraction in and of itself for Alec, as it can't help but wonder just how much he could fence Bobby's library for – maybe Alec isn't exactly a literary expert, but he does know enough about ascertaining the age and condition of books to know most of this stuff has got to be worth a little dough even if it's not preciously rare. Not that he would, when these guys are his best and probably only hope to get home, but focusing on something else is better than feeling useless or panicking.

Still, there's only so much amusement to be had there, so mostly he finds himself just sitting in front of a book he's not really reading, getting occasionally glared at by an exasperated Sam for his fidgeting. 

His curiosity is sparked when that ultimately leads to Sam groaning out, “You're every bit as bad as Dean.” Because yeah, he's been wondering about that; this guy has his face, though they can't be related with the whole alternate universes thing, but it still has him questioning what else they might have in common. Especially the way Sam has reacted to things he's said a few times, as if he was checking to make sure Dean hadn't randomly switched back into his proper place while Sam was looking away. 

Unfortunately, if Alec spends all his time peppering Sam with questions, the research they're doing will never get done, so Alec tries to restrain himself to mealtimes and breaks. Other than that, he mostly tries to stay out of their way, but even he can only watch so much TV before it gets old. And being here with nobody but Sam and Bobby who are so focused on Dean, it's hard not to think about the situation obsessively. He's used to getting out of his own scrapes, or, well, at least helping Max help him get out of his own scrapes. Being helpless is frustrating, and it's beyond weird there's this guy that has his face and his attention span, that likes hard liquor and plays pool and runs scams that lives in a completely different world. At least, he hopes it's pretty damn different because as far as he knows his own world isn’t overrun with things from nightmares. Of course, according to Sam, most people in this world don't know their world is like that either, so who knows?

Once he gets that thought in his head, he can't stop thinking about his own world and missing it. So he waits until Sam and Bobby are both thoroughly engrossed in their respective books and swipes Sam's phone from where it's gotten shoved underneath the cover of one of their discards. Pocketing the item, he waits a minute and then makes a nonchalant comment about getting something to eat that both men barely acknowledge with a grunt and a waved hand respectively. 

Satisfied with their disinterest, he goes into the kitchen and around the corner before he pulls the phone back out. He's pleased with the scheme of calling Dean, for two reasons. It should give him the opportunity to talk to his weird alternate universe clone and ask some questions of somebody who he isn't distracting from something more important. It's also a good opportunity to make sure the guy isn't screwing up Alec's life too badly while he's out. He dials the number for his own phone, but instead of ringing through, he only gets some weird staticky noise. He's still staring at the phone in confusion after trying a second time when Sam comes into the kitchen and stops short, asking him what he's doing. 

Alec explains, since he's not really embarrassed about getting caught hijacking Sam's phone – he just hadn't been sure the guy would let him use it if he asked. Really, he can't complain, because aside from looking at him a little funny the first couple days he was here, Sam and Bobby have been fairly welcoming for two people who clearly aren’t used to letting outsiders into their own strange world. Still, a lot of the time they treat him as inconvenient baggage that just happens to be filling the skin of the guy they want back, and it leaves Alec kind of unsure exactly where he stands with them.

Sam looks incredibly worried once he's gotten the story out of Alec and all but snatches the phone out of his hands to make his own attempted call to Dean. When it gives him the same weird buzz, Sam's entire face falls, and it looks for a second that he's even going to throw the phone into the wall.

“Sam,” Alec starts, though he has no idea how to go on.

Thankfully, the second of distraction is enough and the angry way his face has contracted smooths out and he sighs. “I'd better tell Bobby about this.”

The sad thing is the phones suddenly being unable to connect across universes when they did previously is just another in an increasingly large pile of unanswered questions. For all the books that Sam and Bobby (and occasionally even a very bored Alec) have flipped through, they have no idea what's happened here or how to reverse it. There are a few scattered reports of travel between universes, but most of them are old almost beyond imagining and involve fanciful tales of angels, which the hunters are both fairly sure don't actually exist, so who knows how accurate they are otherwise. There are a great deal more accounts of body swapping, as that's a fairly simple matter with witchcraft, but again, there's nothing to explain the universe swapping, the time distortion, or how and why it latched onto Dean and Alec in particular. 

They spend a couple more days at Bobby's house until one afternoon when Sam shuts his laptop with a distinctive thunk and announces he and Alec are going to go and take care of a hunt over in Browns Valley, Minnesota. This is quite surprising news to Alec, but a quick glance at Bobby makes him think the older man was almost expecting this to happen. On the one hand, it'd be great to get out of this house. Alec is used to having been cooped up and unable to go anywhere for long periods – hello, Manticore – but that's kind of the problem. He already spent so much of his life doing that on someone else's orders that sitting around here doing nothing has left him antsy. On the other hand, well, he's not a hunter and he's not even revved up anymore. The last thing he needs to do is get himself in trouble with these guys for messing up and getting them, or Dean's body, hurt. So despite how much he would like to get out of here, he feels obligated to speak up.

“Uh, you know I'm not your brother or even a hunter, right?” Alec suggests, with just a hint of unavoidable sarcasm seeping into his tone. Sam and Bobby have been nice to him, but there's still that moment every time they look at him of disappointment he's not the guy they're looking for. He knows they’re not doing it on purpose and it really has very little to do with him, but it still sucks.

“I know. I'm almost positive it's just a simple black dog, though. And I just can't stand to sit around getting nowhere anymore, can you? My brain needs a break to try and figure out some new angle to come at this from, and so far as I can tell both you and Dean are safe enough for the moment. Besides, didn't you say you were trained as a soldier?”

Sam definitely has a point, but still. “Yeah, but not to hunt supernatural things. I gotta think that's a little different. Plus, I'm in your brother's body, and he's way slower and weaker than I'm used to.”

“It can't be that different,” Sam contends. “C'mon. I'll do most of the work, I just need you to make sure nothing gets me from behind, alright?”

Alec still feels pretty dubious about the whole venture, but Sam has clearly already made up his mind. And his puppy dog eyes are worse than Joshua's. “Alright, I guess.”

Thanks to the fact they never really unpacked the duffle bags they brought with them to Bobby's, they're back on the road in under an hour with Sam behind the wheel. Apparently Dean would not be happy if he got back and found out Sam let anyone else drive the car. 

“He's that attached to it?”

From the passenger seat, Alec sees Sam roll his eyes, though he doesn't turn his attention from the road. “He calls it his baby.”

Alec starts in slight surprise, and chuckles softly. He feels a weird spike of what has got to be homesickness, wondering if Dean and Max are bonding over their obsessive love of their respective vehicles. The thought turns sour and resentful after only a moment though, because the last thing he needs to know is that there's yet another person out there with his face Max can actually stand because they aren't him. 

It's just about a two and a half hour drive between Bobby's place and the town where Sam's hunt is. Their first stop once they hit the correct town is checking into a run down motel similar to the one he'd first woken up in as Dean. Thankfully there aren't any ducks this time, but he's not sure the orange neon zebra striped bedspreads and the jungle leaf print wallpaper are actually an improvement. 

Sam is careful to give him a thorough run down of everything he needs to know about Black Dogs before they ever leave the motel. Alec had assured Sam on the drive up that he was a great shot, though Sam had insisted they pull off to a deserted field and test out that claim after all the complaints Alec had made about the limits of Dean's body. They're both a little relieved when Alec is just as good as he said he was. As all they have to do is lure the creatures out and shoot them with iron rounds, Sam continues to insist that the hut should go easily enough.

In the end, he's right, it's pretty simple. Alec is aware of the limitations of the body he's in, and Sam does take the lead for the most part, just as he promised. Which is not to say that the appearance of spectral dogs with glowing eyes that could appear and disappear at will doesn't freak Alec out, because they really, really do. As Sam had said, though, they were more interested in scaring their prey first before tearing it apart and he was there to follow Sam's lead. So aside from it being a little nerve-wracking to stand stock still instead of running when they growled at him for the few seconds before Sam took them down, it couldn't have gone smoother. Most of the hunt is actually a little boring, trudging along a lonely back road after dark trying to lure the beasts out. Even with as mind-blowing as the genuine monsters are, the most harrowing part of the experience is the two creepy dudes in a truck that try and pick him up as he's playing bait.

The younger Winchester was also right about it being good for both of them to get out of Bobby's house for a few days. Compared to the dilapidated state of Seattle in his world, the cheesy rundown motels the hunters stay at are still fairly luxurious. Tacky décor aside, nothing's actively rotting and they have running hot water. Sam finds Alec's explanation of all this hilarious after he asks Alec why he isn't complaining about the accommodations. 

Sam even talks about them maybe taking on another simple hunt instead of heading back to Bobby's right away, although his frustration every few hours when he attempts to call Alec's universe is clearly weighing on him. They take an extra couple of days to do a little sparring, to try and help Alec adjust to the limited abilities of the body he's in. Alec has the training, it's just a matter of getting used to how slowly he moves compared to what he's used to and how vulnerable he is to injury. There's a little bit of adjustment for Sam, too, because he's used to Dean fighting in a fairly different style than the one Alec learned. They both teach each other a few new things, and Sam finally stops giving him that disappointed look that he's not Dean quite so often. 

In the evenings, Sam looks for another case, but mostly he ends up finding things he relays back to Bobby to pass on to other hunters. Alec is half tempted to be offended because after the Black Dog he feels pretty confident about this supernatural crap, but Sam warns him not to get cocky. Finally, Sam finds what he thinks will be a simple enough ghost hunt and they set back off on the road again.

Alec wishes he'd listened when Sam goes into a roadside diner to get them lunch and disappears, leaving behind a room full of messy corpses. When his panic finally calms down enough to let him think, his first irrational thought is that Dean's just going to have to deal with someone else driving his car, because yes, he is in way, way over his head here. Hopefully Bobby isn't.


	4. Doubly Demonic

It's kind of disconcerting how differently Max treats him once he tells her he's not Alec – at least when other people aren't around. He's not sure how to take it, either, because she's been kind of a colossal bitch to him the whole time she thought he was Alec for no reason he could figure. Then suddenly he tells her he's somebody else she doesn't even know and she completely changes her tune? Like if their history was that awful, why the heck does she constantly spend all her time seeking out and riding the kid's ass? If Dean's gonna side with anyone here, it's gonna be the guy with his face unless there's still some big thing he's not getting. Of course, it could also be that she thinks he's nuts and doesn't want to upset him. He wouldn't put that past her, either.

Finally, he can't take it anymore and asks her point blank what she's got against Alec, hoping to at least piss her off out of the conciliatory way she's been treating him. At first she's taken aback by his question and there's a glint in her eye that Dean suspects means she's about to revert to her previous behavior, until all at once she deflates. It doesn’t stop her from proceeding to muster an argument, though. First she goes into a rant about how he pretended to be on her side and help her escape Manticore but that it was all just a ploy to let her infect Logan with some crazy sci-fi virus, then she explains he tried to kill her and Joshua when some creepy government dude put a bomb in his neck. 

Dean tries to parse all of that and ultimately just shakes his head and asks her exactly what would have happened if Alec hadn't followed orders – he doesn’t know much about Manticore, but what little he has gotten of the story has not exactly painted them as the types to accept refusal. While she's still trying to find some kind of words for that, he asks why she's still alive if Alec tried to kill her. Funnily enough, she doesn't have an answer for that either. Although she does manage to blame him for losing a collection of papers to get a cure. Dean has to ask why she wasn't more careful with them if they were so important. Finally, she just glares at him and leaves. It's oddly reassuring. Her sudden attack of nice was giving him the heebie jeebies. 

Time passes, and Dean finds himself getting even more increasingly restless. He's used to being able to pick up and leave a place when he gets bored just as much as he's used to having hunts to go on to occupy his time. Now, he's found himself stuck staying here because he's living someone else's life. To make things worse, once Max spilled the beans to her sanctimonious prick of a boyfriend about Dean not being Alec, the guy refused to let him go on any more of his lame missions, too, even the regular ones as Max's backup. Life as a bike messenger, spending his evenings hustling pool to save up money for his alternate universe dopple to spend on crap if the two of them ever switch back just isn’t cutting it. He can't even fool himself into thinking he might manage to find any hunts or helpful research on getting himself home anymore, and he still can't get through to Sam. 

The only real relief is that Max will still take him along on her various transgenic rescue missions. It's better than nothing, although they don't occur very often and he feels pretty bad for even thinking about wishing otherwise. Actually doing them is a bit of a trip, too, since he often ends up rescuing freaks that look more like things he'd be killing back home than normal people. Of course he doesn't say that, and Joshua is probably one of the most gentle people Dean's ever met, but it's still strange to him when they end up running into the weirdest-looking of Manticore's escapees that wouldn't be out of place in the pages of Bobby's grimoires.

Max has warned him that there's some douchebag agent guy named White who is on a mission to kill all the transgenics, who is usually on the opposite side of a lot of these rescue missions. Despite the warning, however, it's about three or four of their rescue runs in before the guy she's been worried about shows up as they're trying to shepherd a furry-looking transhuman through dark alleys towards the nearest sewer access that runs to Terminal City. At first glance the guy doesn't look like much other than a suit, but Dean's got plenty of experience with monsters that look a whole heck of a lot more innocuous than they really are. 

The big difference is that while he's got a certain amount of experience fighting things that are super powered, he's used to having to do it without his own superpowers to match. Of course, his methods of fighting tend to be both more creature specific and more lethal than Max's, so he finds himself getting tossed around a distressing amount by the suit. He's not even sure why it slips out when he goes slamming into a brick wall just missing being brained on a large dumpster, but he finds himself saying “Christo” at White. Who – holy shit – flinches as his eyes go black.

“So I guess the supernatural does exist here after all?” Dean asks, rhetorically, as the guy comes at him yet again.

“Don't worry, you won't live long enough to tell anyone,” White sneers back. 

Dean's not exactly prepared for the supernatural, and demons are tough sons of bitches there's no easy method for killing even back in his universe. There's generally not much that will even slow them down. Still, Alec's body is a lot tougher and quicker than Dean's and so is Max's. He's hardly gonna give up without a fight just because they didn't come prepared for demons. 

It goes better than Dean expects. He's put in the work to learn how to adapt to using Alec's abilities and Max isn't so shabby of a fighter herself. Of course, there's no way to get rid of a demon without an exorcism, something he unfortunately doesn't have memorized, but they still manage to beat White down enough to make their getaway without much more in the injury department than some heavy bruising. It seems almost like the guy goes down too easy, but then, Dean isn't sure if maybe that's Alec's strength or perhaps that demons are somehow intrinsically weaker in this world. 

The first thing he does the next day is go back to that library he found and get himself a decent exorcism to memorize so he'll be ready the next time they run afoul of the guy. Dean hates being left unprepared for monsters. He doesn't say anything to Max about it, since she'd been too distracted by helping the transgenic they were rescuing to really pay attention to his exchange with White. She does, however, notice the next time they run into the man in an abandoned warehouse where they're supposed to be meeting a contact for supplies and Dean yells at her to hold the guy down while he rattles off the necessary Latin.

The whole time White is struggling against her grip she's looking at Dean like he's crazy (she actually manages to yell exactly that accusation). Of course she's less inclined to question his methods when a giant cloud of smoke pours out of White's mouth and funnels down to disappear into the ground as his body goes limp. 

They both stand up and look at each other. A few moments pass before finally Max asks, “What the hell was that?”

“That was a demon.”

“What?” Max just stares at him.

Dean sighs. After he'd had to confess he wasn't Alec and that conversation about what her issues were with Alec, she's mostly been humoring him. The day after their talk, she'd insisted he go with her to see a Dr. Carr she knew, who asked him a bunch of questions before he took a couple scans of Dean's head and some blood before declaring there was nothing obviously wrong that might be causing his delusions. After the tests, he and Max had left Dean alone in the room for a while, during which he suspected the doc had given Max some kind of advise about humoring him unless he was endangering anybody. Mostly because ever since then Max has dealt with his claims of magical body swapping by deftly avoiding the subject entirely. This is the first thing since then she can't outright deny. As well as the first time he's seen any reason to push. If there are demons here, his conscience won't let him leave her in denial. 

He knows she doesn't want to believe, but he has to try to explain. “I don't know about your world, but where I come from, monsters walk the earth – and I don't mean your cuddly transgenic buddies. I mean real evil. The whole time I've been here I've been looking for hints of it, trying to find some connection to the occult to maybe get me switched back home. This White joker is the first time I've found any evidence it exists here, too.”

Max looks at him like he's crazy, and he can't entirely blame her. “So what does this mean? White is part of this whole crazy cult thing - “

Dean stops her by holding up a hand. Standing in some blind alley with White's corpse is really not the time or place for this discussion. “Hell if I know, but we should get out of here.”

“Well, that's helpful,” she huffs, but starts back towards her bike regardless.

They go back to Max's apartment and Dean gets her to tell him about her foray with Logan into the cult's school slash initiation compound. Unfortunately, it doesn't really ring any bells for him. Neither the witches nor the demons in his world behave like that and nothing she can remember of their ritual lines up with any traditions he knows enough to recognize. He really wishes he had Bobby's library or Sam's laptop right now. Of course, neither of those exist in this universe, so he'll just have to suck it up and deal. 

“So this is seriously a thing in your world?” Max, despite what she saw earlier, is clearly still skeptical.

“Seems to be in your world, too.”

“Ugh. Well, what do we do about it?”

Dean sighs and slumps against her kitchen counter. “I didn't even think monsters existed here before that first time we ran into White. I looked up every damn thing I could think of that might lead me to the occult back when I was hoping I could find my own way home. Never found a damn thing.” 

Dean takes a deep breath and runs his had through Alec's too-long hair. “Okay. Let's go back over everything you saw at the freaky cult ritual, try to remember every detail you can, don't leave anything out if you can help it, even if you're not sure or it sounds too weird.”

“Because I would do that,” she snaps. “Logan is already looking, so I don't know what you think you're gonna find.”

“Right, _Logan_ ,” through extreme forbearance, Dean manages to not roll his eyes. “Well, I suppose if White was secretly a demon all along, Logan has been secretly useful all along and he's just been hiding it really well.”

Max glares at him. “God, I'm really starting to miss Alec.”

“Yeah, well you're no Sam yourself, sweetheart. So spill with the details. What were they wearing, what were they doing, what did the language sound like, what kind of props did they have. Everything, Max. If we're lucky, maybe we can solve this and whatever it was that brought me here will switch us back after.”

Max looks at him strangely. “You really think that's possible?”

Dean shrugs. “Stranger things have happened. Hey, it works in the movies.”

She gives him one of those looks he hasn't seen since his confession of not being Alec, but then tells him everything she can remember, and Dean takes notes. Somewhere in between researching demons to see if the basic folklore is the same and looking into the specific symbols Max said the cultists had used, he idly dials Sam's phone one more time. At this point, it's more habit than real hope.

Which is why he's very surprised when it rings, enough so that he almost drops the phone. He's even more surprised when it isn't Sam who answers, but his own voice. “Uh, yeah, sorry can't talk right now -”

“I think you can take a minute to talk to me,” Dean tells him.

“Crap. You're Dean. That just figures considering-”

Dean cuts sharply across whatever the kid is trying to ramble on about. “Where's Sam?”

“Right, uh, so that would be the can't talk now part. He went into this roadside diner and disappeared, man. A couple seconds and everybody else was just dead and he was just gone and I don't-”

“Are you telling me the demon came for my brother?” Dean can barely keep the phone in his hand from cracking. Suddenly he has all too many theories about how and why he got shut away in a different universe.

“I don't – I don't know anything about a demon.” The guy in his skin is making him sound scared and confused and it just makes Dean even more angry. 

He growls in irritation. “Look, kid. I'm just gonna say this once. You go and you find my brother. You do whatever it takes to save him, because whatever did this wanted me out of the way. You got that? Because if anything happens to him – anything at all, while you're there stealing my place? I will find a way to put us in the same universe and make you regret it. You got that?”

Alec is more than a little taken aback, if the time it takes him to respond is any indication. “I hear you.”

“Then get off the damn phone and go save my brother. I'll see what I can do about this demon infestation you've got over here.” Dean cuts the phone off and tosses it aside.

### ...

  


Alec doesn't even remember much of his phone call to Bobby, standing in that tiny parking lot in front of the now empty corpse-strewn and blood-spattered diner. He figures his panic is fully justified, even if the old guy was growling and irritated at him until he calmed down enough to be coherent. Finally, Bobby manages to get him to explain where he's at and they make plans to meet each other halfway. Alec suits action to words and jumps into the driver's seat of the car and peels out. He's glad to have a next step handed to him, but he can't seem to get the grisly scene from inside the diner out of his head. Alec has seen his fare share of kills, that's not the issue. It's just – between one blink of his eyes and the next, Sam was gone and every damn person in that diner was massacred. Brutally, bloodily, and it wasn't just Dean's eyes that had failed him; even the deadliest creation Manticore ever made couldn't manage such carnage in such a short span of time.

He'd say he's normally pretty good about keeping his cool, but Sam and Bobby are his only chance of ever getting back to the world where he belongs. Without Sam, that cuts his already slim chances down more than he'd like. Besides, he's come to kind of like Sam, too. Whatever happened is clearly monumentally bad and the poor guy has no better hope at getting rescued than Alec. Who doesn't know nearly enough about hunting and the supernatural for this. It's so unfair, why couldn't this body-swapping nonsense have happened to someone like Max who loved the chance to play hero?

When Dean suddenly manages to call through to this universe and then promptly forgets whatever it was he actually called for to bitch about Sam, well, that doesn't help Alec's calm any. He's let too many people down in his own world, he's not gonna do that here, not again. Whatever it takes, he's going to do what Dean asked and save Sam somehow. Just as soon as he figures out that tricky how part.

By the time he and Bobby meet up on the side of the highway, Alec has himself better in hand. He isn't trained for this specifically, but he is trained for dangerous situations and he knows panicking won't help. Besides, if these ordinaries have been doing this monster hunting business for years, he can, too. Even if Dean's body is a little less responsive than he would like. He's just been spoiled, but he's a transgenic and a survivor and he can damn well make due. 

It doesn't hurt that Bobby is really on his game. He's already looked for potential demonic omens himself and called somebody named Ash to further check for signs or whatever. Apparently Ash has been looking into this demon business no one had bothered to tell Alec about for the Winchesters for some time now. He could be mad about the fact there was this giant threat hanging over them all no one bothered to mention, but Alec just doesn't have the energy to spare for that at the moment. He's just glad Bobby knew to call this Ash guy.

Bobby himself found nothing, but they're waiting on a call back from Ash, which thankfully for Alec's very thin patience, happens only a few minutes later. The conversation between Bobby and Ash about omens is all nonsense to Alec, and the fact he's found nothing directly leading to Sam is a huge disappointment. Still, Ash tells them to come to him at a place called the Roadhouse so they can talk in person about some big thing he's figured out that he's pretty sure is linked with Sam's disappearance. Alec is just glad for any potentially useful direction, so as soon as the phone call between them is finished, he jumps back in the Impala and puts his foot down on the gas again. Sam would no doubt complain about the rough handling of the car, but Alec needs to do something and driving the Impala at high speeds isn't quite the rush of his motorcycle, but it'll do.

Of course, when he gets to the place Bobby had given him directions to well ahead of the other man, something is wrong. He's not even sure what it is that tips him off right at first. There's just an unnatural quiet and stillness to the air, as if the world itself has stopped to hold its breath waiting for something, although that's an oddly fanciful thought for him. Still, there is something undeniably eerie about the only sound he can hear being the sound of the gravel under his feet as he approaches the door to the bar Bobby had given him directions to. 

He reaches the door and pulls on the handle, but nothing happens. It's a bar, so knocking seems weird, but he tries that first and then tries to look in a nearby window, using his hands to shade his eyes. He can see people inside, but none of them are moving. For a second he has the horrified thought that they've all been massacred, too, like in the diner. Except there's no blood he can see, they're just – frozen somehow. Sitting, standing, leaning over the pool table, one man is clearly mid-sentence, all of them unnaturally still like posed mannequins. The scene raises the hair on the back of his neck and arms, and the sense of wrongness weighting the air with an almost tangible force urges him to do something, anything. He tries the door again, but puts more strength behind it and feels it give just a bit before it's almost yanked back into place, as if some kind of force is holding it closed.

Alec has absolutely no idea what this is, but something in his head is screaming that this is wrong and time is running out. Ash is supposed to be inside and able to help them find Sam, so he's got to get inside. A second of frantic thought has him rushing back to the Impala and digging an ax out of the arsenal in the trunk. He pushes Dean's body to its limit hacking at the door, trying to open enough of a space to get through. He'll figure out the next step once he gets that far. It's slow work, but the wood does splinter under his efforts, so he keeps going. 

As he's still trying to work his way through, his currently unenhanced nose picks up the faintest hint of smoke on the air accompanied by the hint of something rotten. He works even faster, pushing past the point of pain, Dean's muscles screaming at him. It's a relief when he hears Bobby pull up behind him and ask what the hell he thinks he's doing.

Panting, he calls out, “Something's wrong!” He doesn't stop working at the door, and soon enough Bobby joins.

Although his bad feeling about the situation makes it feel like it has to have been much longer, in less than a minute more with Bobby's help, they have a big enough hole in the door for a person to pass through. Inside, all of the people are still frozen in place, but one thing has changed. Now, an unnatural billow of fire and smoke is roiling slowly across the ceiling. When Alec goes to move inside to try and do something to wake the people up, despite Bobby grabbing his arm, something breaks from him crossing the threshold. Suddenly everybody inside is moving again. 

They're not moving fast enough for his taste, though, and they all seem sluggish and confused. Considering how much of the ceiling the fire is now covering, he shouts to get them moving. “Fire! Get out! Everybody get out now!”

Everyone inside startles and turns towards the door, where Alec emphatically points upward and repeats himself. The next couple minutes are a frantic rush of people towards the hole he made in the door, with he and Bobby attempting to help people out. A few of them go around to the other side to see if they can get another door open. It's still too short of a time; the fire moves unnaturally fast even after whatever it was that had held the people in place is broken. 

The parking lot around the still-burning bar is a chaos of people calling for others they knew were inside, and it's soon clear at least a couple of people didn't make it out. While the hunters are asking questions and complaining, trying to find each other and figure out what happened and who or what to go after, Alec just turns an irritated look to Bobby. It's great these people aren't dead, but Sam is the more pressing concern. 

Someone says something about smelling sulfur, and Bobby takes that as his cue, shouting down everyone else. “Yeah, you did. It was a damn demon.”

The group goes quiet at that, faster than Alec would have believed. He expects more questions, but all of the hunters spread out to their vehicles first, and for a moment he thinks they're about to run for it, before they all start gearing up with weapons and come back together in a clump, looking around the parking lot nervously. It gives Alec an even worse feeling than he already has, a sinking sensation in his stomach threatening to make him sick. If veteran hunters think a demon is this serious, and a demon has Sam, they are so very screwed. 

Before he can really do more to process the thought than that, Ash finally finds them in the chaos. He's just starting to wind up his pitch about how big the discovery he's made is when suddenly Alec is hit with a blinding pain in his head out of nowhere. He sees, of all things, Sam and a weird looking bell with a stupid engraving of a tree on it. 

Coming out of it, he finds himself kneeling on the ground with Bobby and Ash peering down at him. He shakes off the hand on his arm Bobby tries to help him up with and describes exactly what he saw. Weirdly enough, the bell thing seems to tell Bobby exactly where Sam is. 

Bobby turns to Ash and asks if his big revelation has anything to do with Sam. As soon as he shakes his head no, Bobby tells him to take whatever he needs to Bobby's place, they'll regroup to deal with his big discovery after he and Dean save Sam first. With any luck, the two things are connected and they can head whatever it is off at the pass, if not, they need to deal with this one thing at a time. Ash closes his mouth and nods, heading off into the crowd. 

It's another rushed drive that gets him to the place Bobby had referred to as Cold Oak, but this time, Bobby's right behind him driving at the same excessive speeds. They confer over the phone as they drive, and stop just outside of it and break out a couple of guns each, before slowly making their way towards the creepy and dilapidated buildings. 

As they're on the verge of entering what Bobby had told him was an old ghost town on foot, the two of them see Sam staggering in their direction. Alec feels an initial surge of relief, but it's quickly tempered by concern. Sam doesn't look too good and he must be totally out of it, because at the sight of them, he calls Dean's name. 

That throws him for a second, but it also puts him more on alert. Alec figures Sam is either so messed up he forgot Dean's currently Alec or he's worried someone might overhear him calling the wrong name. He strains Dean's less powerful eyes to scan all around Sam for some clue as to what's going on, and almost immediately notices a weird furtive movement just behind Sam. Alec reacts without thinking, pulling out his gun and shooting the man coming up on Sam's flank several times, easy as breathing. 

The guy drops down dead and Sam and Bobby both look between the body and him. He's not sure he likes the look of the expressions they're giving him, as if he's just done something wrong. Whoever the guy was, he was up to no good, Alec is sure of that, so he doesn't get what the problem is. These guys kill monsters, surely they're not gonna give him one of Max's lectures for taking out a threat? 

“He was human,” Sam says, sounding disappointed. 

Alec walks over and sees the guy he'd shot had been holding some kind of rusty blade in his hand and kicks it away, even though there's no doubt he's dead. He takes a deep breath. “I told you I was trained by Manticore as a soldier. He was a threat. He was going to kill you and then your brother was going to kill me. I took him out. Don't go trying to tell me you think it was the wrong call.” He can't help the defensiveness that sneaks into his tone. 

Sam gives him a long, considering look before he slumps in on himself. “No, you're right. I'm sorry. I just wish he would have listened, but I guess the demon got to him. It told each of us only one person was going to walk out alive. I tried to get them to work together, but,” Sam shakes his head and sighs. “They all killed each other like it wanted, until it was just us two left and then -” 

Suddenly, Sam brightens considerably. “Wait, you talked to Dean?”

“Yeah, more like I got yelled at by Dean for letting you get abducted by demons.”

Sam laughs and of all the weird things, pulls him into a hug. Alec pats him awkwardly on the back, figuring he had a hard day and is entitled to be a little weird about it, but still steps back as soon as Sam lets go. The guy's got a grip like an octopus with those stupidly long arms.

“I don't think even Dean could complain. Thanks, man. We should go celebrate -”

“Don't start counting your wins just yet,” Bobby, who has been standing by quietly through their reunion, warns.

Sam takes in Bobby's still grim face and instantly sobers. “What's going on?”

As the three of them head back to the Impala and Bobby's truck, Alec keeps his eyes alert and wary while Bobby fills Sam in on what happened with the Roadhouse earlier as well as Ash's claim that he found 'something big'. They both sound really worried. After the way things have been going, Alec has a hard time imagining how things could get worse, but he can no longer doubt it's possible.


	5. Checkmate

As he'd told Max, Dean had already gone through all the resources he could find to look for active traces of the supernatural before. This time, he expands his search to more esoteric links to the weird and unnatural, looking into the history of myths and legends instead of looking for proof anyone has noticed said myths and legends are actually wandering the world killing and eating people. In this search, he does find himself on more familiar ground. Granted, he usually makes Sam do the research when he can get away with it, but all those years it was just him and Dad he had to do his fair share. Especially once they started splitting up to take different hunts. The general lore is still there in mythic form, it's just the more specific resources of hunters on how to kill the evil sons of bitches that seems to be missing. 

As such, he's not really sure how much luck he's going to have with trying to look up what Max saw of the cult ritual, but he's willing to give it a go. Reluctantly, he's even willing to drop by Logan's penthouse and see if the guy's contacts have any better access to rare books and information. It's a hell of a long shot, but he can't call back to the other universe for help even if the phone works. His brother is in trouble and there's not a damn thing he can do about it except maybe distract Alec from whatever the kid might be able to do in his place. Just thinking about it makes him too pissed off and worried to concentrate. 

In addition to the ritual Max had seen, some guy from Manticore named Lydecker had given Logan some information about a Native American burial site and a myth about crossbreeding that seemed tied to the cult. With some coaxing and stroking of the guy's ego, he finally gets Logan to tell him about it as well as the research Logan himself had done tracing similar sites back across several continents and cultures over thousands of years. Dean may not care much for the guy on a personal level, but he can't fault his research skills. It's too bad he's such a condescending, self-righteous geek, especially when it's just Dean and Max isn't around for the guy to be distracted by making googly eyes at.

Which is why, once he has as complete list of aspects of the ritual Max saw that he thinks might be traceable and his own conclusions about likely origins and mythologies, he reluctantly takes it back to Logan. He's pretty sure several aspects of the ceremony point to a Minoan origin – female priestesses, snakes, painted face markings, and the few symbols Max was able to remember and draw from a primer she found in the boy's dormitory. Logan gives him a dubious look when he hands his research over, and it's pretty clear the guy doesn't quite know where to start in looking into something not quite as concrete as archaeology. He's also pretty sure the guy still thinks he's Alec running some kind of scam and is suspicious of his attempts to help research the cult. Dean figures the guy's access to sources is worth walking him through it, but just as he's about to start, Logan gets a call from some chick named Asha and takes off, leaving Dean with an admonition like a naughty child not to touch his computer. 

Well. If there was any better way to ensure Dean would do just that, he doesn't know it. It doesn't help that Logan's passwords are easier to crack than the ones on Sammy's laptop, and that's really saying something. Dean thinks once again he'll never understand how the guy has managed to not get his ass caught for his whole Eyes Only shtick. Okay, so maybe he rightfully doesn't expect anyone to get as far as being left alone in his apartment, but still, maybe the Pulse made people stupid. 

Of course, once he's into Logan's system, he gets bored. He could try cold contacting a few addresses for university professors, but he'd been hoping to be able to use Logan's connections and reputation for that. Having an in is far more likely to get him results and he's hoping Logan or one of his direct contacts knows exactly who to talk to. Information like that isn't so easy to find in this screwy version of 2020 as it was in 2007. What's left of the internet isn't any more useful when accessed from Logan's computer than any other still-functional rig. 

Ultimately deciding it's better to wait, Dean wastes time flipping through the man's files. His eyes stop on a big one labeled Manticore and he figures what the hell, why not? Maybe it'll distract him from worrying about what's going on back in his own universe while he waits. 

_Dammit, Sam, you'd better be okay_ , he thinks. 

He's deeply immersed in it when Max shows up and yells at him, asking what he's doing. 

“Just having a look around.”

“Well, knock it off! Logan doesn't deserve to have his privacy invaded like this! God, you're such an inconsiderate jerk!” 

She moves forward to switch the computer off. Dean thinks it's probably how she's so eager to jump to defend Logan when she's often been openly judgemental and suspicious of him both before and after his confession that makes him say what he says next. “So just how many times has he almost gotten you killed?”

She stops trying to get around him abruptly and her features screw up in irritated puzzlement. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The X5 he had doing his dirty work before you took a header off the Needle thanks to one of Logan's ill-planned missions. I'm just curious how often that happens. If I get back home and he gets you and Alec killed, the rest of the transgenics are totally screwed.”

Max stares at him for a very long moment, her face frozen without expression. “What – what other X5?”

He's surprised at her surprise, having assumed that she'd splutter denials and explanations for how it wasn't really Logan's fault. He gestures towards the screen, dragging the cursor back up to show her the pertinent bit. “An X5 named Seth? X5-698. It's all here in his files.”

“No, you have to be reading that wrong, Logan wouldn't,” her voice trails off and there's a deep furrow in her brow. 

“Logan wouldn't what?” He asks, curious.

She just pushes him out of the way to take her own look at Logan's files. Dean scoffs at her rudeness and goes to raid the man's fridge. Hey, the guy also has decent taste in food and a lot of things he keeps on hand are otherwise hard to come by in this post-Pulse world. 

When Dean comes back with a sandwich and some fancy imported beer that isn't half bad, he sees something he never would have expected in a million years. Max is crying silent tears, staring at the screen as if it's personally betrayed her.

“Max, are you okay?” Okay, so he thought Logan was a dick, but Max had always seemed perfectly happy, hell, eager to jump directly into danger as Logan's personal one woman army. So he's not sure what's got her messed up now. It's not like she doesn't know how willingly Logan puts her and anyone else in danger for his missions.

She looks up at him, and quickly wipes her eyes. “Fine. I'm fine. Let's just – let's get out of here, okay?”

“Sure,” he agrees, still puzzled, but not about to try and get her to explain if she doesn't want to.

“To Crash?” She asks, and well, he's been kind of doing his own thing lately, but never let it be said Dean Winchester left somebody alone when they clearly needed a friend. They spend the evening in the bar, and Max asks him to tell her a little more about his world. It's pretty obvious she's trying to distract herself, so he obliges. He tells her about hunting, and about Sam. He tells her about his car, in detail. He even admits, as his list of good things to talk about winds down, that he talked to Alec on the phone and he's pissed off and worried because Sam is in trouble and there's not a damn thing he can do about it.

“Look. I know I rag on Alec a lot,” he gives her an incredulous look for the understatement, “and I'd deny it to anybody else, but if I had to pick somebody to be at my back? He's a good guy. If anybody can help save your brother, he will.”

Dean grumbles a little, but it does make him feel just a little better. Not much, but a little. Although, now that they're down to it, “So are we gonna talk about what you're so upset about now? I think it's your turn.”

Max sighs and pours herself another glass from the pitcher of beer they're sharing. “When I first came to Seattle, I was looking for one of my siblings – not like, blood siblings, but unit mates, you know?”

Dean nods. “Family.”

“Right. Well, I'd come to town because I saw a story about what happened to Seth. Once I got here, I kept coming up empty, but I liked Seattle, so I decided to stay. Settle in for a while, get a job, run a few things on the side, you know. Well, I got caught up in Logan's Eyes Only thing when I broke into his place to steal this sweet little statue of Bast.”

She pauses, and her eyes are far away. “I never really questioned how, but he knew I was from Manticore right away, and he tracked me down to where I worked. He didn't quite blackmail me. Just laid the guilt on thick with one of his save the world speeches and said we could have an arrangement. I'd help him with his crusade and he'd help me find my family. I turned him down at first, but then a few things happened - eventually he offered me an old arrest file about my brother Zack.”

“Funny thing, though? He never said a word about Seth. And the only other thing he ever found about my siblings on his own without them coming to me was pretty much one of his crusades where he wanted me to save people from him. Yet here I am, still playing the super-powered sidekick in his little justice crusader story, thinking we had some kinda special connection.”

“Wow.” Dean says. “Man, I got the impression he was a dick, but that's just cold. What are you gonna do?”

“Part of me wants to blur over there right now and kick his ass, virus or no virus. I _might_ put on some gloves first.”

“You'd feel bad later if you killed him, but if you want to just beat on him a little, I'm more than happy to help. Or just throw in some mockery and cheer you on.”

She gives him a wan smile. “But he's been doing a lot to help with White and the transgenics. I'm not sure we can afford to burn that bridge. It's complicated.” She slumps and makes a pained face. “It's always been complicated with him, and I hate that right now more than ever before. I don't think I even care why he did it, I just wish it could be that easy to cut him out of my life. It's not like I haven't already tried before, for less reason.”

Dean hasn't seen anything about the man that deserves this amount of melancholy, especially in light of what Max has just told him. Telling Max that probably won't go over too well, though, and Dean is starting to feel increasingly awkward about being dropped into what feels like relationship drama. So he replies, “Well, I certainly don't think you owe the guy to be honest with him. You can't touch anyway, right? Let him keep thinking you're still playing his game without telling him you know the score. Heck, you using him to help your people now is fair payback for what he never gave you when you actually had a deal, don't you think?”

“I guess that's one way to look at it.” She sighs heavily. 

“Not as satisfying as kicking his ass, though,” Dean suggests in response to her lifeless tone.

She gives him another halfhearted smile. “Not even close.”

After the night out, Dean goes back to his attempted research efforts, getting increasingly frustrated. He bites his tongue and asks Logan to contact a few people, but nothing comes back. He tries to look more on his own, but the problem is, he's pretty sure all the useful records have been wiped somehow. What he really needs is to get his hands on is someone from the cult and figure out what they're after. He says as much to Max and she looks at him like he's crazy.

Fortunately, he's in luck. Whatever the system here is, it must be way easier to crawl back up out of hell than back home. The next time they find themselves in a confrontation during a transgenic rescue op, it's White's former number one lackey who talks like White and has acquired super strength and black eyes since they last saw him. The weird thing is he's super easy to knock out for a possessed guy, but as Dean's been looking for a little hostage action for an interrogation, he's not going to complain.

Max objects to them kidnapping the guy at first, but when he pointedly asks if she wants to know what the cult's big plan is or not, she acquiesces, and after they drop the two rescued transgenics off at TC, they find themselves an old abandoned warehouse and some chains for their prisoner. Even with all she's seen, Max still looks askance at him as he draws a devil's trap on the floor with spray paint for them to move the man into and sets out and blesses a jug of holy water. 

When the guy finally comes around, it's clear the demon isn't intimidated by them at all. It sounds almost bored. “Do you really think this is going to do you any good? If you know what I am, you know you can't even kill me.”

“Probably not. I couldn't find any reference to Samuel Colt, after all.” Dean says, and the demon stills, giving itself away. “Then again, you are kind of pissing me off, so I might just have to look harder.”

“You won't have the chance. I made the mistake of letting you live to walk away once, 494, it won't happen again.”

Dean scoffs. “Funny, I don't think you're in a position to be making any kind of threats. I may not be able to kill you, but I can keep sending you back downstairs. Or hey, burn on one of those host-lock sigils and shove you in a box somewhere for as good as forever.”

The demon snarls, “There's no way Sandeman could have programmed that knowledge into you. How the hell do you know anything about what we are?”

“Yeah, see, I'm getting the impression you don't quite get how an interrogation works,” Dean says, picking up the jug. Max's jaw drops open when he splashes what she knows is just plain water on the thing's skin and it screams and writhes, scalded. 

Dean himself is surprised, because the host's skin actually looks damaged, which is odd. It's another indication that demons in this world are subtly different than the ones he's used to. Still, he knows how to school his face to keep the surprise from showing. “So we're gonna have a little chat, and you're gonna tell me what I want to know. Or we're gonna see just how much holy water it takes to drown a demon.”

### ...

  


With Bobby's help, Alec manages to convince Sam he should take the passenger seat for the drive back to Bobby's place. He looks exhausted and has definitely been in at least one fight. They're heading back into what's probably going to be another catastrophe, with the demon still at large somewhere along with whatever else Ash might know. Alec's too wired up to sleep, so Sam might as well have the chance to rest if he can before they confront the next crisis. It also seems to help that Alec points out he's already been driving the car, so any damage with Dean potentially finding out has already been done.

Despite the knowledge they're heading back to something bad, Ash had not made it sound as if whatever he knew was as pressing of a situation as saving Sam had been, so the drive back to Bobby's is taken at significantly slower speeds. They even take the time to stop and grab something to eat, since neither he nor Sam had actually gotten to eat when Sam was originally supposed to be going into that diner to grab something. Of course, Alec doesn't let Sam go in alone this time. Until they have some better idea of the big picture here, he's not going to let down his guard. Even though he has no idea how he could possibly stop something like Sam's previous abduction. 

When the three of them finally return back to Bobby's house, despite the late hour of the night, Ash and a whole collection of other hunters from the Roadhouse are waiting for them. Bobby had briefly explained what happened at the Roadhouse while Sam was missing before they'd started back and Sam had grilled Alec for additional details during the first part of the drive. As he parks the car, Alec notices Sam scanning the faces, presumably looking for someone in particular, which Alec first assumes must be Ash, considering. 

However, upon exiting the car, Sam heads directly for and eagerly greets a tough looking woman he addresses as Ellen and asks if someone named Jo is alright. Ellen greets them both and tells them that Jo's off hunting on her own and wasn't at the Roadhouse at all. She herself had managed to entirely miss the catastrophic fire, because the bar had run out of pretzels. She'd gone on a supply run and come back to find a pack of paranoid hunters in her parking lot around the still flaming ruins of her bar. Sam looks relieved and Alec does his best to mirror the expression, even though he has no idea who any of these people are. 

Once the pleasantries are over with, they all gather in the main room of Bobby's house. They clear an area of books, and Ash takes center stage, pulling out a map of Wyoming. Over a span of the southern part of the state that has to be at least one hundred miles by the scale, someone has drawn a series of five Xs with connecting lines between them. Alec has seen enough to recognize a pentagram is a significant symbol, but a quick glance around the table shows that he isn't the only one who doesn't understand immediately what the map is meant to tell them.

Ash says something about catching the rest of the group up and launches into a tale about a man named Samuel Colt, a famous hunter who made a legendary gun that can kill anything. From the significant glance he sends Sam and Alec, Alec infers that this is something Dean was already supposed to know, so he tries to make sure he doesn't look too interested. So far he's taken his cues from Bobby and Sam when it comes to the other hunters; if they aren't going to bring up the fact that he isn't Dean, he's going to do his best to play along. 

Finally, Ash returns to the map and explains that each one of the five Xs represents an abandoned frontier church constructed in the mid-nineteenth century. Each line is part of a private railway track, laid in iron. All built at the direction of Samuel Colt. It's not just a giant pentagram, it's a massive devil's trap. Which is a curiosity, to be sure, but Alec still doesn't understand the urgency or significance of why this discovery matters right now. 

Ash pauses to let them take that all in. Alec doesn't particularly appreciate his flair for dramatics. It's late, Dean's body is more tired and achy than his own would be in a way he's still not used to, and he'd just like to get on with it. “Okay, so why does this matter?”

“This matters because a few hours ago, when Bobby called me up to ask about that program I'd been running for you two about demonic omens? There was nothing. Not a blip, the whole damn country was a no-demon zone. While you were off doing your thing to get Sam, that completely changed. There are demonic omens _everywhere_ now. Freak thunderstorms, cattle mutilations, rain of toads, the works.”

“Everywhere, except _here_ ,” he says thunking his finger down into the very center of the star-shape on the map. It's currently like the eye of a demonic hurricane, man.”

Sam stares intently at the map. “Like they're surrounding it? Okay, but why? What's there other than some old churches?”

Ash shrugs and shakes a finger at Sam. “That right there is the million dollar question. All I could find is record of an old cowboy cemetery, smack in the middle.”

“So, what does this all mean?” Alec asks, hoping he's not the only one still in the dark.

“Whatever is in that cemetery, the demons haven't been able to get to it. Something Colt went to a hell of a lot of trouble to protect,” Bobby replies, turning the map towards himself to get a better look, as if the lines will somehow give up the secret if he only sees it from a different angle.

“Well, if the lines have held this long, I don't see why they're so worked up now,” says a voice from the back of the room.

Sam stiffens, and after a slow, considering look around the room, he speaks. “This is what the demon who took me was planning. A demon can't cross the lines. They need a human working on their side.”

“Well, okay, but why are they still circling, then?” Alec asks. “All the demon's chosen champions are dead, and even a demon can't possibly be arrogant or stupid enough to think you'd work for him.”

Sam doesn't say anything, but Alec notices the sudden flash of guilt across his features that's present for only a second before it's gone. He resolves to get to the bottom of that later, when they aren't at the center of a room full of paranoid hunters. Considering his own current situation and how Sam clearly doesn't entirely trust everyone here with everything, he doesn't want to draw any more attention their way than necessary. 

Plans are tossed back and forth about reconnaissance and research into the cemetery. A couple different groups volunteer to go directly to the scene and call in other hunters for backup. Alec gets the impression hunters are usually solitary, but there's no question from the way everyone is reacting that the current situation is very abnormal in a very worrisome way. No real conclusions as to an ultimate plan are reached, other than for everyone to keep an eye on the situation. There's not much they can really do until they know what's in that cemetery that's so important. The hunters trickle out in singles and pairs until all that's left is Bobby, Ash, Ellen, Sam and himself.

While he's gotten the impression the stragglers are more or less inside the Winchester's circle of trust, Alec doesn't really know them. So he waits until he can manage to get Sam alone and restarts the conversation neither of them had wanted to have with an audience. “You can't think the demon would really expect you would work for it, Sam.”

Sam, again, looks guilty and worried. “You don't know. I didn't hide it on purpose, I just didn't know something would happen before we could get you back home. I, I have special powers – visions. I got them from the demon, and there were a bunch of other kids it influenced, too. Dean and I ran into a few of them before.” There's a long pause before Sam speaks again, and he pointedly refuses to meet Alec's eyes as he talks.

“Alec, you didn't see what he had managed to turn the others into,” Sam says pleadingly. “Ava was a secretary from Peoria when we met her a few months ago – she was murdering people in cold blood in Cold Oak, completely remorseless. No, not even that, she was outright gleeful about it. You don't know what evil the demon's influence could make me -”

Alec may not be Sam's brother, but he's spent some time with the guy and none of this makes any sense to him. “No, I don't buy it. You know why? I was made in a lab by a bunch of sociopathic mad scientists and trained to kill people. I'm not evil, and neither are you. You won't make that choice. You're better than that, Sam.”

Sam lets out an exasperated huff. “You're as bad as Dean, I swear. I made him promise to stop me if I went evil and the stubborn jerk tried to take it back. You can't know it won't happen to me. You said you were made with animal DNA, well, I've got freakin' _demon blood_ in me. Animals aren't evil, but demons? _Our dad_ told Dean he might have to kill me!”

“So that's it, you're just going to give up, give in, and do whatever it wants? Go darkside without even fighting it?”

“No! Of course not, but you're assuming that I'll have a choice!” 

For the millionth time, Alec wishes that he was back home. This should be Dean's problem to deal with; Alec doesn't do this kind of drama. Hell, even Max would be better at trying to convince Sam to stop acting like hope is already lost. Unfortunately, Alec is the one here, so he tries to come up with some other way to get through to the distraught hunter. “You're assuming that you won't without any better reason. Sam -” 

He's interrupted by Ash walking back into the room, and the conversation is brought to a swift halt as Sam gets involved in talking to the other man about tracking demonic omens. Alec has no choice but to let it go, and Sam seems to be pointedly avoiding being alone with him over the course of the next several days as potential plans are discussed and reports about the demons still circling are made. It's aggravating, but Alec does understand to an extent why Sam is so messed up and doesn't want to talk about it. 

While Sam is so busy doggedly avoiding him, Alec makes the time to talk a great deal more with Bobby. He's too lost in this world of demons still to be comfortable, both in a general sense and in the sense of the Winchester's individual history. He's used to just winging it when necessary, but there's too much at stake here for him to remain as in the dark as he is. Especially if Sam is going to be so obstinate and pessimistic. 

It takes a few days, but at least one group of hunters gets through the demon blockade to investigate the cemetery at the center of Samuel Colt's massive devil's trap and is able to report back to Bobby. At the exact center of the cemetery itself is an old crypt with a strange ornate door. It's carved with several elaborate engravings around another devil's trap with what looks like a keyhole in the center. A keyhole just the right shape for a gun barrel. Bobby and Ellen immediately recognize it as something called a devil's gate, a full size door that opens directly into hell. When he asks what the significance is, Bobby explains to Alec that normally demons have to work their way up out of hell over a great deal of time, but with a devil's gate, a few hundred of the yellow-eyed bastard's demon buddies could come streaming through in under a minute. 

Alec would think that them knowing exactly what the demon's plan was would finally give Sam some piece of mind, but the guy just gets even more broody and convinced he's doomed the more days pass with the demonic omens continuing to stack up. Something here has got to give. He isn't really Sam's brother, but Alec isn't going to let that get in the way of the charge Dean and his own self-interest has laid on him to protect Sam. Up to and including from himself, if it becomes necessary. Besides, the sooner they resolve this whole immediate demon crisis thing, the sooner they can get back to those plans to try to get Alec home. Win-win. 

Even having already thoroughly considered that he might have to work around Sam, he's still a little surprised to be awakened by harsh low voices a few days later, vibrating with tension and clearly trying not to wake him. Highly familiar by now, he recognizes Sam's voice easily, but the other is unfamiliar. The two of them have been staying in one of the upstairs rooms at Bobby's place, and Alec takes a moment to remember the position of everything in the room in his mind and try to tune in to the conversation to get an idea of what exactly is currently going on.

The first series of words he can actually distinguish are spoken by the voice that's unfamiliar to him. “Yes, you will - if you don't want your brother to go the same way as Mommy and sweet little Jess.”

Well that's ominous, considering he's currently playing the part of Sam's brother. Alec slits his eyes just far enough open for long enough to get a glimpse of the room. It's dark with the room only slightly illuminated by the light from the window, but even with Dean's eyes it's enough for him to make out the shape of an unfamiliar middle aged man standing slightly closer to Sam's bed than his own, not quite directly in the center of the room. Even across that distance and in the dark – or maybe especially because it's dark – Alec can clearly see that the man's eyes are burning an unnatural yellow color. He's learned enough to know that this must be _the_ demon. 

The man the thing is inhabiting is turned slightly away from Alec, facing Sam's bed. Presumably that's where Dean's brother is still located, though Alec hadn't been able to see him in his brief attempt to take stock of the room and he hasn't made any response to the demon's recent taunt. Alec doesn't like laying still and playing at being asleep, but everything he's learned about Sam and this particular demon tells him the next few moments will be crucial. Carefully, Alec makes a slight movement as if he's restless but still asleep and the man takes one menacing step towards where he's faking it before coming to an abrupt halt. 

Sam hisses under his breath definitely from the area of the other bed, clearly still trying not to wake Alec, “Stop!”

The man turns his attention back towards Sam, glaring. “Very funny, Sammy-boy. I thought you knew better than to play games with me?”

Alec turns his head just far enough to see Sam on the edge of his vision, looking scared and confused. It's time for Alec to stop playing around and interrupt this little chat before Sam gets the wrong idea and is tempted to do something stupid.


	6. Endgame

“He's still alive in here,” the demon says, conversationally, its attempt at nonchalance rather ruined by the blistered appearance of the host's skin, “weak and completely human, but alive and mostly unhurt. For now.”

“Completely human, huh? Unlike the cult guys you'd rather be riding around in. You need his position in White's secret government agency enough to go slumming, I guess,” Dean responds, his own voice bland and unaffected by the demon's oblique plea for the host. 

“Oh come now, let's not pretend 452's bleeding heart doesn't care. This guy is an innocent.”

“Somehow I'm thinking a lot more innocents are gonna be in the line of fire if we don't thwart whatever scheme it is you're up to.”

It laughs. “We've had centuries to plan. You really think even if there was anything that could jeopardize the Coming that I would tell you about it?”

Actually, Dean does think so; if there's anything demons love more than blood and chaos, it's bragging. He plays it cool, though. “Well, let's just talk about the obvious,” Dean suggests. “'The Coming',” Dean's voice is mocking, “sounds like some kind of big-time summoning ritual to me.”

The demon says nothing, and unfortunately is better this time at controlling its nonverbal responses. Ah well. Couldn't expect it all to be so easy. “Probably with an endgame to give you better powers since you're some pathetically weak-ass demons, or is it just the usual plan to take over the world?”

“Oh, they're definitely looking to take over the world,” Max interjects. “White said that straight out.”

“Figures. They're always so predictable.”

The demon screws the face of its host up into an expression of disdain. “You dumb animals will never stop his rise, no matter what Sandeman put in those runes.”

Dean has no idea what it means by the mentions of Sandeman and runes, but Max doesn't look nearly so surprised. It's a sign of weakness to reveal his ignorance in front of the demon, but there's little point in continuing an interrogation when he has no clue what to ask. Compromising, he pulls Max off to the furthest corner of the warehouse and hisses under his breath, “What runes?”

Max loooks taken aback for a second. “Sandeman apparently encoded a message into my DNA. The last few weeks I keep getting these runes that pop up for a day or two before fading away.”

Dean tries to control his aggravation. This is information that it would have been really damn useful to know. “You didn't think it was important to mention that? What do they say?”

“I forgot you didn't know!” Max pouts. “With all the weird demon stuff and you not being Alec and Logan and - ugh. I thought I told you but I guess I forgot.”

Dean makes a noise of disgust and fights the urge to roll his eyes. Tersely, he bites out the words, “You do realize we're probably wasting our time on this mook without even knowing what to ask when you might already have the answer?”

“Well, the runes are in ancient Minoan. So it's not exactly easy to figure out what any of them say, but Logan's been working on it for a while -”

“We're back to trusting Mr. Only-Shares-Information-When-He-Feels-Like-It? Why, did you also forget to mention his doctorate in runic languages?”

Max returns his confrontational look and sarcasm with a glare. “I didn't know who else to ask, and he has a lot of connections! It was your idea to keep using him for stuff in the first place, remember?”

“So has he actually gotten anywhere?” Dean asks, and Max just chews on her bottom lip. 

Dean sighs, but leads her back across the room to try to get the demon to say a little more. Unfortunately, whether it sensed his ignorance or it was just at the point of clamming up, Dean can't get anything more out of it. Finally, in frustration, he exorcises it. As the demon had said, the host is still alive, and after checking to make sure the guy will stay that way if they leave him, he and Max bail. Even if the guy is human, he's still one of the humans in charge of hunting down and killing transgenics. Dean isn't willing to bank on demon-possession having induced a change of heart. 

Max sends him to Logan to get images of all the runes that have appeared on her skin so far, but he ends up having to go back through Max when the guy refuses to hand them over. He's got it in his head that Dean is still Alec, and Alec is just pretending to be crazy to get more of Max's attention. Apparently the guy has actually managed to notice Max has been colder to him, but instead of trying to figure out why and make amends he's decided to just blame that, too, on Alec. Whatever, Dean does at least eventually end up with a copy of the runes and that's all he really cares about. 

A certain familiarity with dead languages had been a necessary part of his education as a hunter, but there were very few of them he learned more thoroughly than just a few symbols or words from. Basically just enough to know what he was dealing with so he could find someone else to do a more thorough translation. Still, he does have a little more experience than absolutely none at all, and equipped with the resources Logan found and what little progress has already been made, it doesn't take too long to get a general sense of what he's looking at. 

Of course, his understanding of what the runes are saying is somewhat enhanced by his familiarity with demons and mythologies, both in general terms and the kind of language used in old texts to talk about them. He can also have a little more assurance he's on the right track when what he comes up with slots in neatly with the one major slip he'd gotten the demon to make in their attempted interrogation, saying that they wouldn't be able to stop his rise.

“I think they're going to try to summon a god,” Dean tells Max. 

“Can you maybe think again, because that sounds like a really bad thing.” Max looks a little bit panicked and he can't quite blame her. She was disturbed enough by all the crazy demon nonsense, she's got to be feeling completely out of her depth now.

“Not all of the mythology from my world lines up well with yours. These are Minoan runes but they're mostly talking about what I recognize as older Babylonian demon gods of sickness and plague. As for it being bad, well, it could be worse. We've got one big thing going for us: they're on a timetable. This thing can only be raised when a particular comet skims Earth's atmosphere. Singing its praises at that specific time in the promised manner is supposed to grant the right to survive its purge.”

“So we just ... stop their ritual then?" Max suggests tentatively, clearly still not quite feeling sure she understands. "At least that sounds doable.”

“That would do it, but there might also be a better option. The old gods in both worlds, they like to play in absolutes. There are two invocations of the god; one of them brings it forth and the other, well, the meaning is a little unclear, but it's either banished forever or killed. It would mean the cult could never try this again, their power would be broken for good.”

“So that whole thing Logan said about darkness covering the Earth or whatever -” she stops because Dean is shaking his head no.

“That's part of the Song of Ura, the invocation we're talking about. It's not literal. The cult has been raised with immunity to the god's disease, and the transgenics were given the same immunity by Sandeman. If we don't stop the summoning, we'll live and they'll live, but everyone else will sicken and die.”

“So no pressure, then,” Max sighs.

Dean works feverishly on the translations, doing his best with what he has. Which isn't as much as he would like, but even if he does notice more and more differences between this world and what he can remember from his own – there's a convoluted explanation of why demons are much weaker for one thing, which distracts him from his goal for a short while. In the end, though, he's helped by the fact that in both universes, the kind of language and cadence used in ritual is much the same. He's as sure as he can be that he has all the nuances of both the ritual to summon and the ritual to banish. As much as he doesn't like the idea, he even points Logan to the relevant section of text to have a second translation to double check against. It'd be better to have an expert, but Logan had never found anyone and at this point even if he did they would have to be very careful it wasn't someone in the cult they might tip off. 

Logan's help is also needed to find out exactly when the comet is due. He has a lot more connections than any of the transgenics do, so it's much easier for him to find experts still around in fields like astronomy – especially since most of them have left for less broken-down countries than the US. As Logan pinpoints the exact time when they need to act, Dean and Max organize the transgenics to track down the cult and try to figure out where their ritual is going to take place. 

In a worst case scenario they can do the banishing ritual anyway themselves, but if they can co-opt the cult's ritual in progress they can be completely sure the demon won't have a chance to infect anyone before it itself is destroyed. Slower than Dean would like, a plan gradually comes together. A source of Logan's knows a guy who knows a guy who gives them a list of all the comets passing near Earth for the next year, and the closest and most likely one is a little under a month away.

It's both more time and less time than Dean would like. The ritual refers to a chosen priestess whose blood must be invoked on a purified blade. Making the latter is easy enough, and as little as she likes it, the former obviously has to be Max. Conferring between himself, Max, and an intimidating lizard-like transhuman that calls himself Mole, a team is put together to infiltrate the cult's ritual. As well as a second team back at base to do the banishing ritual alone if the first team fails. 

They've only got five days left on their timetable when the transgenics out scouting for the cult's movements report that a lot of cult members seem to be gathering together in a remote town a few hours south of Seattle. A lot of cult members. It's no less than what Dean expected, since they've been building up to this for thousands of years and Dean's exorcisms have to have made them a little extra worried. The transgenics are strong, capable, well-trained, and even if they only disrupt the cult's ritual, it's still a win for them. They can do this, if there aren't any big surprises. They've done the best they can with what they have, so they'll just have to make it be enough. It's familiar territory for Dean. 

The cult is set up around an abandoned asylum, which Dean finds all too appropriate. Thankfully the place is pretty overgrown with a lot of trees and brush encroaching on the edges of the property, which allows them to get in closer than they might have managed otherwise. Even better, the cult really likes to dress up their ritual prep with heavy obscuring robes. Even just the ceremonial guards walking the perimeter. 

Of course after they replace the guards one by one, it becomes obvious to the participants inside the compound that they aren't who they're supposed to be when they leave their posts, and that's when the real fighting begins. Dean hadn't been any more comfortable with killing the cult members who are technically humans than Max had, but they had ultimately agreed that these people were trying to end the world. There were just too many of them to afford to do anything else.

The ones running the ceremony, naturally, are all possessed. With the way the transgenics are built, they can take the punishment of fighting against demons, and all of them concentrate on trying to get Max to the priestess in the middle of things. It's a damn shame the building doesn't have a working intercom system, but it doesn't and trying to individually exorcise the demons mostly just ends up concentrating their attacks on individual transgenics.

It's hard and it's bloody, and Dean is glad he won't have to explain to Alec how he got a giant knife wound in his shoulder. He's also not looking forward to burying the transgenics who didn't make it through the fight. But in the end, they got Max through to where the priestess was and got her out of the way so Max could grab the ceremonial blade and change the wording of the ritual. Despite how many times she'd told him she had a perfect memory, Dean had still made her practice the unfamiliar words at least once a day ever since he translated her runes. 

All through the fight there had been a growing pressure of something building and as Max intones the final words, suddenly it's gone. Nothing happens. Dean has to hope from the way the still fighting cult members sag and finally give up that it's the right result.

### ...

  


“What can I say, I didn't get the memo,” Alec says, dropping the pretense of sleep and sitting up.

“A- _Dean_ , what are you doing?” Sam asks.

“It's more what I've already done. Borrowed some slightly off-white paint and did a little redecorating when you were busy avoiding me a few days ago. I think more no-demons-allowed signs always class up a place.”

“You really think a devil's trap is gonna hold something like me?” The demon sneers.

“C'mon, why would I go cheap like that? It's a full on Key of Solomon up there – took forever, too. And it seems to be working just fine. Prove me wrong.” Even though everything he's learned in the past few days said the Key was strong enough to hold any level of demon, Alec is still internally relieved when the demon concedes by changing the subject.

“So what, you're gonna read a little exorcism, send me down to hell? I'll be back and then I might actually be mad. You think I've made your lives miserable before? You've been beneath my notice. It wasn't personal. You do this and it will be.”

“Really? You'll be back?” Alec replies skeptically, “this century?” 

The demon gives him a challenging look, but Alec feels increasingly confident the longer it refrains from making any moves. “See, here's the thing. Bobby figured out the reason for the hell gates is to let the big fish come upstairs. The normal cracks between hell and earth only let a few low level peons squirm their way through each year. We send you back downstairs, you're gonna be good and stuck until something summons your ass back or you take a couple centuries to ooze your way back through on your own. Whatever your plan is, it's probably not gonna keep that long.” 

Alec turns to Sam when the demon just sneers. “You wanna do the honors, or should I?”

Sam intones the exorcism ritual from memory, with Alec having to chime in only once as the thing tries to distract him with all kinds of dire threats. Soon enough, a plume of black smoke shoots up to the ceiling before sinking down towards the floor on its path back to hell. The body the demon had been wearing drops to the ground as well, dead. A few moments of silence pass.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Sam asks, looking betrayed.

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe it was all that woe-is-me I-won't-have-a-choice fatalism you were spouting everywhere.”

Sam makes a noise of irritation. “Ugh, you are such a jerk.”

Alec gets up and goes over to the body, investigating a suspicious bulge in one of its coat pockets. He pulls out an antique-looking gun. “Cool.”

Sam's eyes light up at the sight of it. “Do you know what that is?”

He has a pretty good guess, but he lets Sam proceed to tell him, slightly breathless. So okay, if he was wrong and the demon does come back, they're not quite so helpless anymore. 

The coincidence of it bothers Alec more than a little bit, though he's careful not to let it show. The demon shows up and leaves the Colt behind, the very key needed to be taken to a lock inaccessible to demons which would allow all of hell to come screaming topside. Left behind specifically with the only survivor of a generation of kids specially chosen for the task. Alec doesn't know where the whole death match setup comes in, but Sam is the only survivor. It seems suspicious, but there's no way Sam wouldn't rather just shoot the demon. Of course on the more selfish side, Alec and Sam don't tell anyone but Bobby that they've got Colt's gun; some of the hunters would probably be very uncomfortable with it in Sam's hands. Probably to the point of doing something foolish Alec suggests. Bobby agrees.

Even if the demon eventually makes its way back and has another generation of kids waiting, the Colt is still in their hands. Maybe it's not perfect – it's obvious Sam is really disappointed they didn't get a chance to kill the creature that killed his mother and girlfriend, and Alec can't entirely blame him. Still, they have thoroughly ruined the creature's plans for now. 

Over the next few days, that only becomes more obvious. The strange explosion of demonic omens dissipates almost overnight. The hunters as a whole are both relieved and disappointed – several had hoped this would be an opportunity to send a great number of them back to hell and been gathering together towards forming a plan to that end. Especially since the number of possessions had skyrocketed for no clear reason over the course of the previous year. Though they don't have an obvious target anymore, the discussion carries on, though most of it moves back down to Nebraska, where several of the hunters are putting in time helping Ellen rebuild the Roadhouse. 

Bobby had given it pretty high odds just exorcising the demon that had plagued the Winchester family would bring things to a standstill. While he can understand Sam feeling let down that they didn't have the chance to kill the thing, Alec can't help but think they'll be better off with it stopped from whatever it was up to as soon as possible. The kidnapping it had perpetrated with Sam and the others like him had already been worrisome enough. Also, Alec would just really like for the whole thing to be over so they can go back to concentrating on what's most important to him – getting back home. 

He tries not to be impatient, but he doesn't want to live out the rest of his life in Dean's skin. Sure, post-Pulse Seattle is kind of a craphole, but it's his craphole. This life of demons and monsters and being Sam's brother isn't all bad, but it's not where he belongs. 

Finally, when he's just about to go stir crazy and suggest he and Sam go on a hunt or something just to get out from under Bobby's roof, Bobby calls he and Sam together. “Now, I ain't sure if this will help your situation or not, so don't go getting your hopes up too high.”

“What've you got, Bobby?” Sam asks.

“Got a friend who's a psychic a couple states over. Most powerful one I know. She might be able to sense something about how you got here and how we get you switched back to where you're meant to be.” 

“A psychic,” Alec repeats, apprehensively. That sounds way too close to Psy-Ops transgenics for his comfort. It might be worth it if they can get him home, but that doesn't mean he has to like it. 

Bobby shrugs. “I've scoured every resource I have on body swapping, and a couple I had to beg, borrow, or steal to get my hands on. Nothing I can find matches what happened to you and Dean. Ain't a thing that even comes close. Now, sometimes stuff like this can be seen clearer in the spirit world than with regular eyes. To tell the truth, kid, this is more a last ditch hail Mary than a likely lead, but I got nothin' better.”

Alec sighs, and Sam clenches his jaw before responding, “At least it's something to try.”

Pamela Barnes is hot, flirty, and while definitely psychic, nothing like the transgenics Alec knew back home with similar abilities. She greets them on the doorstep and immediately knows he's not in the right place, just by looking at Dean's body. Alec hasn't really expected much out of this trip after what Bobby said, but it does cause his hopes to raise a little bit. 

Pamela ushers them inside to where she's got what looks like a stereotypical fortune teller's parlor set up. Alec scoffs and she just winks at him, saying not to mind the tourist trappings, or to dismiss what works. She tells them to settle in for a séance by taking seats around the table. She lights a group of candles grouped in the middle of the surface and then instructs them to hold hands and close their eyes, laying her own out along the edges of the table for them to grab onto. Alec feels ridiculous waiting for something to happen as she “centers herself” and “contacts the spirit world”. Even with everything he's seen, it still seems too ridiculous to be true. A glance at Sam's serious demeanor and compliantly shut eyes, however, has him keeping his mouth shut.

“Oh, I can see it now,” she says confidently, eyes still closed. “You're not just in a different body, you don't belong here at all. The edges don't quite line up. Not enough to tip off anything that isn't looking for it, but the universe you came from is just different enough to loosen Fate's strings a touch with you in Dean's place.”

“Wait, are you saying – what are you saying?” Sam asks. 

“This was definitely deliberate,” Pamela states with complete certainty. “Somebody powerful brought you here, and they knew what they were doing. Things have changed; you've changed them just by being here. The spirits say you've done your part.”

“Okay, say that's true. If I've 'done my part', then why am I still here?” Alec asks.

Pamela opens her eyes and drops their hands. “My best guess? You're waiting for Dean to do something similar in your place and then you'll switch again, no further effort required. I promise you this much, it isn't permanent. The connection to the world you belong to is fuzzy, but it's still there to guide you back when the time is right.”

Alec sighs. This isn't the answer he was looking for. What happens if Dean never does whatever it is? What if Dean screws it up? Can the connection be broken stranding him here then?

Some of this must show on his face, as Pamela pats his thigh and says, “Don't worry, hot stuff, these things have a tendency to work themselves out. You'll see.”

Alec hates waiting, but Pamela was Bobby's last real idea, and she says waiting is their best option. Sam takes him on a few simpler hunts and they both keep their eyes out for any sign of anything funky going on with the devil's gate, but all seems quiet on the demon front. 

Then one night he goes to sleep in yet another interchangeable motel room with hideous décor and finds himself in a strange featureless gray space. Alec looks around, confused. “Hello?” He tries walking a little further and his feet make no sound, like the place he's in isn't truly real. “Anybody there? Hello?”

“Alec, I'm guessing.” He whirls, turning back to what was empty space just a minute ago to see, well, himself. Actually, not so much himself as the person he's been seeing in the mirror ever since he woke up in Dean Winchester's world. A quick self examination has him pretty sure he's back in his own skin. At least insomuch as he has skin in this weird unreal place. 

He replies easily, “Which makes you Dean, obviously. Where are we?”

Dean shrugs. “Some kind of weird place in between universes, probably. Don't quote me on it, but I think maybe we're both finally gonna get to go home. How's Sam?”

“He's fine. We even banished your demon. Hopefully for good,” Alec answers. “How bad did you screw up my life while I was gone?”

“Hey! I'll have you know I thwarted a demonic cult attempting to raise an old time god of disease to destroy the world,” Dean says defensively.

“Wait, my world really has demons, too? That's just _great_.”

“Sort of, they're not quite the same. It's a long, complicated story. I'm sure Max will fill you in if you really care.”

“Yeah.”

“So.”

“Thanks. For that.”

“You too, for Sam.”

Dean looks around as if he's heard something, though Alec doesn't notice anything. He looks back to Alec with a smile on his face. “Goodbye, kid. Take care of yourself, okay?”

Alec blinks and suddenly he's staring at the ceiling of his own apartment, though it's been so long it takes an extra moment to recognize it. Finally, he's back where he belongs. He can't quite help himself from going directly to the bathroom mirror just to make sure, but after that he starts getting ready to go in to Jam Pony. This is probably the most interested he's ever been in getting to work on time, but he really wants to know what happened while he was gone after what Dean said. He doesn't even think it might have been a dream, the whole thing felt too real for that. 

At Jam Pony, when Max walks in over an hour late she takes one look at him and asks, “Alec?” When he nods in answer to the question she's clearly asking, she punches him in the arm and tells him he'd better not ever do that again before welcoming him back with a surprise hug. Inwardly, he laughs at the perplexed expression Original Cindy is shooting their way. It's good to be home.

  


### Epilogue

  


On one side of the divide between worlds, the demons are cursing the disruption of centuries of planning. It had seemed so simple when humanity was nearly wiped out to co-opt enough of the remaining survivors to build a cult capable of eventually breaking the walls between worlds enough that Ura could be freed to rule this pathetic world. Sandeman's defection and the creation of his immune half-animal abominations had been manageable, until suddenly one of them had been on to their plan. After they'd purged every record made about their kind and gone to the extra trouble of setting off the Pulse just to be extra sure, it was inconceivable. The comet would come and go again, but Ura was dead; the plan was broken.

On the other side, Michael and Zachariah are scratching their heads as to how the best opportunity for the first seal to be broken has just slipped through their hands so easily. Things had happened so fast; before they knew it, Azazel was banished and Lilith was still safely locked away with her knowledge of the seals. Their apocalypse plan, after all the trouble of pairing Mary and John Winchester and subtly guiding the demons towards Sam and Dean was stalled dead. Of course pulling Azazel or even Lilith topside was well within their abilities, but to do so would be to openly and directly move against their stated orders. Even if the lower ranks of angels wouldn't rebel, atop the confusion and anger they both feel a hard shock of fear, too, because that kind of serendipity seems familiar from the old days when He took an active part in the world. As much as they're ready for the world of the mud monkeys to come to its overdue messy end, directly and actively rebelling will have to be left to Lucifer, it's a step too far for them. Especially if He is still watching.

Meanwhile, on both sides of the divide in Heaven and on Earth, Joshua smiles secretively to himself and goes back to his painting and gardening as his Father whispers praise in his ear for a job well done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just in case anyone is wondering, I'm going with the headcanon that Alistair lied about being unable to break John Winchester for over a hundred years (and the accompanying implication he was actually a viable option to break the first seal). If for no other reason than convenience to my plot and that it makes little sense for John Winchester to be able to waltz right out of hell in 2.22 if he was getting Alistair's personal attention every day. Thus there's no obvious further path to continue the apocalypse.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. All feedback is welcome (especially for any glaring errors since this was edited in a bit of a hurry)!


End file.
